


Impromptu Affair

by GreyLiliy



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-09-26
Updated: 2011-03-22
Packaged: 2019-10-02 10:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 54,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Good partners are hard to find - but sometimes they just drop in unexpected. And Joker's going to keep hold, whether Scarecrow & Two-Face like it or not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on my Fanfiction.net account on September 26, 2008 and while I don’t know the dates of everything in between, Chapter 23 was posted on March 22, 2011. Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on January 1, 2019. Original Author’s notes have been kept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because there is not nearly enough of Joker & Scarecrow in this section.

"I could have sworn you were still in Arkham." Crane wheezed out as he clenched his gut and slunk back against the dingy brick wall, legs drawn up towards his chest. It vaguely crossed his mind that the blood stains was never coming out of his white shirt; odd considering he should probably be more concerned about the large, bleeding gash in his stomach. "When the hell did you get out?"

"A lady never tells, Doc."

Crane rolled his eyes at the sarcastic reply from the man leaning against the opposing, equally dirty wall in the small alleyway. While the doctor was unaware of the actual extent of the man's wounds, it looked as if he was on par with Crane in injuries. Or he was faking it; Crane couldn't really tell or care at this point. "If you're a lady, than I'm the Queen of England."

"Funny guy for a big bad doctor." Joker smiled, well it looked like he was smiling anyway. Truth be told, he very rarely smiled, but the glasgow scars adorning his cheeks tended to hide that fact quite well. It's hard to smile when one's fairly certain they had a broken rib or two or things aren't going the way he wanted. "You should do that for a living."

"I have no intention of raining on your parade." Crane snorted and squeezed his gut tighter stuffing the side of his jacket coat into the wound. He'd die if he didn't stop the bleeding sooner than later, but neither he nor his company could afford to leave the alley with Gotham's finest running about. They were lucky to have found such a wonderful hiding spot. Shame they both found it at the same time. "I'll leave the humor to you."

"Well thank-you, Your Majesty." Joker chuckled slightly. It was funny; the man leaning before him. The man's glasses were crooked, his hair was ruffled and his shirt wrinkled and stained. The way he held his head it was obvious the man normally would have been clean pressed and spotless, even with that dingy scarecrow mask hanging at his side. The rumpled look didn't suit him at all. Joker shifted himself slightly to try and lighten the pressure on his left side. He estimated he was in good enough shape to split this scene, but watching his bleeding impromptu partner in crime was rather amusing. "But I got a question."

"And what would that be?" Crane crooked his head to the side and listened out one ear for sirens or sounds of other people. He might be bleeding and exhausted, but he'd give it the college try and run if it came down to it.

"How'd _you_ get out of Arkham?"

"I didn't." Crane smirked. "Haven't been there since I was 'released' a year ago."

"Really now?" Joker started to dig in his pockets. He had lost one of his knives in the moments earlier, but he was sure to have another to play with somewhere. He frowned when he couldn't find one and cursed himself for being so careless. "I could have sworn I heard something about you being busted through the grapevine."

"You mean the drug bust before that whole thing with you and Dent?" Crane rolled his eyes and tried to lean forward to test the pain in his side. He was starting to get light headed and needed to start thinking of a way out before he lost the ability to do so. "Batman wrapped us up all nice and pretty, but he failed to deliver us. I crawled away the moment he left before the police could show."

"Takes a big man to admit that." Joker waved his arm in a swirling moment. "The crawling part, I mean."

"Forgive me, I seem to have been humbled tonight with this spectacular failure. Crawling after a small beating is nothing compared to bleeding to death in an alley with a scoundrel such as yourself."

Joker out right laughed; pain in his ribs be damned. "Scoundrel? That's a first. Normally it's 'lunatic' or 'crazy' or some other creative thesaurus type word for 'insane.' But never scoundrel." Joker wagged his finger back and forth.

"You're no more crazy than I am."

Joker felt a small smile crawl onto this face at the deadpanned reply from the man across from him. His blue-grey eyes were staring straight ahead and serious. "That an official diagnosis, highness?"

"You enjoy murder and chaos." Crane tried to push himself up against the wall and pushed down the feeling of dizziness. As he got a closer look at the other man, it was clear the Joker was in far better shape. Not to mention becoming more amused by the second. The man was sporadic, and Crane rather enjoyed living. Best to leave while he could. "Insanity implies you're unaware that your actions are unacceptable or harmful." Crane looked the painted man straight into the eyes. "You know exactly what you're doing."

"I do believe," Joker was full out grinning at this point as he stood up. There was pain, but he was having too much fun with the probably-looks-better-when-he's-prim-and-proper Dr. Crane. "You might be the first person to believe me when I say 'No, I'm not' to the oh so lovely 'You're crazy!' accusations."

"Lucky me." Crane tied his mask strings around his belt loops so he wouldn't forget it since he'd need both hands: one to stop the bleeding, one to hold him up against the wall. The part of his mind that noticed the stain on his shirt noted the irony that he remembered to grab the mask somewhere between watching the Joker and tending to his own wounds. "Now if you'll excuse me, I should be leaving."

"Why don't I help you with that?" Joker took the few painful steps across the alley way and slung an arm over the man's black suit jacket. The hiss as Crane took in a painful breath of air almost echoed in the alleyway. The Scarecrow was proving to be far more amusing than just a drug dealer in a mask. "Since it's mostly my fault this happened, anyway."

Crane tried to not pass out with the burst of pain that accompanied the physical contact. Apparently he was injured in more places than he originally realized. Sadly, Crane had bigger things to worry about – like escaping the Joker without making him angry. "Don't be absurd; it was an accident."

"Now, now. You did get to that bank first. I crashed your job and threw everything to hell in a hand basket." Joker smiled and put his hand over Crane's that cradled his bloody gut. "Now while I certainly enjoy chaos, I never intended to mess with a fellow agent of chaos' work. I insist you let me take you home."

"That won't be necessary." Crane started to see little white spots and started to curse. He was going to pass out at this rate; standing had been a mistake. Though, while his vision was dancing he still managed to get a good look at the twisted face that was now unbearably close to his own. "You've got a Chelsea Grin." Crane let out an amused 'Huh' before continuing; the hazy feeling washing over his brain was making him light headed. "And I thought it was just make-up."

Joker pat the guy on the back as he started watching those eyes glaze over. His new toy was about to black out. That was no good. "Speaking, want to know how I got these scars?"

Crane watched as the edges of his vision blurred and he could feel the pain slipping away. Not good signs. Dr. Crane was definitely passing out. His voice was scratchy and lisped as he barely managed a reply. "Not particularly."

"Shame." Joker rolled his eyes as the good Doctor crumpled against him, dead to the world. The green-haired man let Crane's hand fall limp to the side and repositioned his own to quell the bleeding. It was amazing the man wasn't moaning and groaning in agony; yet another tick mark to the "reasons to keep this guy around" list. Putting pressure on the stomach, Joker lifted the man up enough that he could drag him easier. Best to get the good doc somewhere to recover before he did more than just pass out.

Joker wasn't done with him yet.

* * *

Crane opened awoke to the world slowly; his eyelids felt like they weighed a few tons and he ached all over. There was a lumpy mattress under him and knowing it was not his own humble bed Crane decided to try and piece together just where he was now located. Crane came up blank for a few moments, and then it all came back to him in a rush.

This time he did groan.

Memories returning in droves now meant all Crane wanted to do now was roll over and go back to sleep. Getting talked into doing a bank job with some gang; the Joker showing up at the same bank from a different entrance; the surprise on both parties faces (not to mention the bank staff); the ensuing fight between parties; and the moron who dropped his bomb too close to a supporting building pillar...all a wonderful mash of a job gone horribly wrong. Between the fire, the roof coming down and the random gunfire, Crane was lucky to escape alive. The wound to his gut (ironically from a citizen running into him with a knife) and the bruising everywhere he could live with if it mean living to bring fear to the despicable Gotham another day.

Speaking, it appeared that someone had wrapped up the gash in his stomach.

Well, that could only be one other person. Crane tossed his head to the side and saw his Scarecrow mask sitting next to him on the pillow. How thoughtful of the Joker. Yes, not only his apparent savior but also the last person Crane had expected to see drop down next to him in the alley. At first Crane thought the man followed him, but after a few moments it was obvious it was indeed an off-the-cuff moment. Crane pushed himself up on the bed and looked around the room.

It looked like a falling apart apartment that could be located anywhere in the narrows if the standard peeling white wallpaper and brown carpet were any indication. Crane groped for his mask and forced his feet on the floor. He wasn't dumb enough to wait around for the Joker to come back and say 'Thank-you.' Knowing his luck the Joker just didn't want him to die before the man could do it himself. Crane found his glasses on the night stand and pushed them on his face, frowning at the cracked glass.

The room opened up into a small living quarters with a red leather couch and a small kitchenette. That was currently occupied; so much for escape.

"Morning." Joker leant on the counter and took a bite out a piece of toast, small bits of jam falling off the edge. "Didn't expect you to be up and about so soon. Breakfast?"

Joker held out the same piece of toast he'd been eating off towards Crane. "No, thank-you." Crane replied before walking around to sit on the couch. He'd have to walk by Joker in the narrow kitchenette to reach the door. "I don't think my intestines would appreciate food right now."

"Guess they wouldn't." Joker shrugged and continued eating while watching the man on his couch. Crane looked disappointed; like he was expecting to just walk out. Well, the direct approach was almost the fastest. Joker used his thumb to wipe a small glop of jam into his mouth; tasted his lipstick. "Trying to leave before I came home, were you? One would think you didn't trust me." Joker waltzed around the counter with ease. Turns out he had only just bruised his ribs and after a good night's sleep he was feeling much more like himself. "And after I saved you, too."

"Don't be ridiculous." Crane smirked just a little. He was scared, but he wasn't going to let this clown know that. He pushed himself up straighter on the sofa and pulled his legs up closer to the furniture cushions. "I trust you completely."

"Do you?" Joker took in a breath and tilted his head. Crane was twitching slightly and scoping out the apartment for escape routes. What a jittery little rabbit he'd caught. Well, then- Joker would just have to make sure the man relaxed. "I have a hard time believing that."

Crane tilted his head up to look down at the man, despite Crane sitting and Joker standing. "I trust you to be desultory."

"No fair using such big words, your majesty." Joker plopped down on the couch next to his new buddy. The little scarecrow was proving to be amusing: essentially kidnapped, wounded and completely at his mercy, and Crane still had the nerve to talk back. Combine that with the man's affection towards causing a different brand of chaos and Joker might have just found someone to replace his good buddy Harvey. "Us peasants can't keep up."

 _Majesty?_ Crane racked his memory trying to remember why the Joker was calling him that. Something about a joke in the alley, but he couldn't focus on that with the man sitting so close. "Chaotic then. Entertained one minute, bored the next. I'd rather not play the odds on you losing interest, if you don't mind."

"Come now, I'm not going to save you and then kill you." Joker shook his head. "What do you take me for?"

"A man who wants something." Crane narrowed his eyes. "I just can't figure out just what that might be."

"Maybe I just want a little company from someone of a like mind." Joker slung an arm around the smaller man's shoulder and leant in. "Is that so wrong?"

"Forgive me, but I find _that_ hard to believe." Crane picked up the clown's arm and tossed it off his shoulder. The bruises on his back still hurt.

"Ah, well how about this." Joker licked his lips and put his hand up in a pleading motion. "We'll get to know each other better and talk about ourselves. Then there shouldn't be any problem with us hanging out."

Dr. Crane smirked while at the same time keeping his mouth straight. His face adopted his 'professional' expression that he used so often while running around the DA's office. "I stopped taking appointments for counseling a long time ago, but I can make a few recommendations. I hear Dr. Harleen Quinzel is still taking appointments at Arkham."

Joker laughed and slunk down into the couch. This guy was just too much! It'd been forever since he'd found someone so much fun. And to think it was the straight-laced Dr Jonathan Crane: terror of Arkham. "I think I like you."

* * *

Two weeks later and Crane was about to snap. He looked over at Joker who was sitting on the edge of the bed watching some sitcom or another since the man had decided he was never leaving the apartment again. The man had even started calling to order groceries, forcing Crane to answer the door as to avoid drawing suspicion. Crane had no desire to stick around with this man and play 'friends' when he had work to do and chemicals to mix. To date, he'd tried to leave the apartment three times; and failed three times.

The first time Crane had tried to get away, about two days after he first woke up, he had attempted the direct method: just walk out. Joker had laughed and yanked him back into the bedroom and Crane hit the bed in agony. Joker kindly pointed out he was still too injured to leave and Crane, regretfully agreed. His second attempt was after another five days where the ache was significantly less and his wound had successfully closed over. It would scar, but he could live with that. Crane had made it into the hallway before being knocked out from a blow to the back of the head.

The third time though, his most recent attempt, Joker finally got the point across: you're not leaving.

Crane pulled himself up on his side of the bed to put his back to the Joker; the jolt of pain was worth it to not have to look at him anymore. Yesterday morning Crane took a pot-shot at the Joker and managed to knock him out for a few moments. At this point, he made a sprint for the door, but miscalculated how long the Joker was out for.

Yanking Crane by the hair, Joker pulled him down to the floor and shook his head slowly with a small repeated 'tsk tsk tsk' coming from his mouth. "Now what's it going to take to get you to stay put? Do I have to nail you to the floor?"

"What's it going to take to get you to figure out I want to leave." Crane hissed and his back-talk was rewarded with a kick to the gut. Joker then shoved his foot in Crane's stomach and twisted the heel around a bit. The moment Joker pulled his foot away, Crane gasped and automatically reached for the wound to find it reopened. "Dammit."

"You see?" Joker picked Crane up by the hair again and dragged him to his feet. The dark haired man was glaring at him with an almost murderous air and while amusing, it wasn't what he wanted. It's hard to create a partnership with a man who keeps running from you. He liberally smashed Crane's head into the side of the counter. "You just end up getting hurt."

Crane groaned as he was dropped back to the ground and heard the Joker rustling about and clanging noises coming from the kitchen. There was blood dripping from his forehead now, but Crane could still see. He looked up in time to see the man holding a long metal pipe and his eyes widened.

"Surely you remember," Joker paused and tapped the pipe against his shoulder, "what I told you would happen next time you tried to leave?"

"Oh God." Crane pushed himself up and cried to crawl on his elbows towards the door. He remembered what the man had said but hadn't realized how serious the sadist was until he was actually holding the pipe.

But it was too late for regrets.

Crane looked down at his leg rigid straight in a splint and rubbed the top part of his thigh as he left his inner musings over the past couple weeks. Joker laughed again after flipping to the news and some article or another about batman started airing. The madman had broken his leg with a pipe; Crane wasn't strong enough to get away on his own with two good legs let alone crippled. So the doctor resigned himself to imprisonment with his new roommate. When Joker turned around to tap him in the shoulder, Crane pulled the pillow over his head and groaned out "Leave me alone."

Ironically, as long as Crane didn't leave, he could get away with just about anything. Talking back, insults, throwing food and water on the man; didn't matter. All Joker cared about was him _leaving._ Maybe the other man _was_ crazy.

Joker shook the man's shoulder and turned up the television. He had been scanning the channels for news on what good old Batman had been up to in his absence for the past two weeks hanging out with Dr. Crane, but found something much more interesting pop up instead. That surprisingly was about his new roomie. "Oh come on, this one's about you!"

Crane rolled over slowly and looked at the TV where the Joker was pointing happily. The small TV set flickered occasionally, but the sound was fine. The reporter was going on about local gangs spreading around his fear toxin and causing chaos. Attacking shopping centers, gas stations, random people in the street and other high school antics. And of course, since it was the Scarecrow's signature fear gas, the good doctor was being labeled as the mastermind behind it all. Crane felt a little insulted at being associated with those hooligans. "Someone must have found my warehouse..." Crane trailed off and pulled the pillow back over his face.

"You know, I've been thinkin' Queenie." Crane cringed at the nickname again; and Joker smiled. That joke about the Queen of England was still his favorite of all the man's sarcastic or humorous responses. Though, being called a "laughingstock of a lummox" had been a good one, too. "That maybe you need a new gag, gimmick if you will. Fear gas is great, but now everyone's doing it."

"I like my fear gas."

"I know." Joker huffed and lifted the pillow off the man's face. "Would ya' listen for a minute?" Crane stared at him disinterestedly and Joker readjusted himself on the bed to turn around with his hands up in a exaggerating way. He continued to inch every closer as he kept talking, until the Joker was practically pulling himself into Crane's lap. "I just think it could use something new, to make it something really scary again."

"How so?" Crane lifted an eyebrow and decided he didn't quite like the look on the other man's face. Crane could see the gears turning and ideas formulating behind those eyes and he tried to back away before Joker grabbed his shoulder and kept him in place. "Joker-" Crane was cut off by the Joker covering his mouth with a hand.

"Something flashy, memorable," Joker paused and leant down to stroke the man's cheek, before cupping both cheeks with his hands. Shifting to push his thumbs into the edges of Crane's lips and pushing upwards in a mock 'grin,' Joker looked down at his new friend. Crane was squirming thanks to the contact but couldn't move thanks to the splint on his leg. "Something," Joker pushed harder on the man's face and gripped the rest of his fingers around to cup the man's neck. "To put a smile on their faces."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurrah! And update. I've been reading a lot of Crane & Joker fanfiction lately and finally got a little inspiration to continue (Lauralot's two fics in particular. I've read them both like three times now. XD) Buying the Dark Knight on DVD and watching it twice now could also have an effect on that...but I digress.
> 
> Dedicated to every fanfiction in existence that has Dr. Crane make Joker's laughing gas. Because I will never get tired of that plot line.

"No."

"Ah, come on. It'll be fun, it'll be fun."

"I said 'no.'"

"And I'm saying 'yes.'"

"You broke my leg."

"Why do you keep coming back to that point?"

"It's a very valid point." Crane smacked Joker's hand away from his shoulder. The man needed to learn to stop touching him. "I'm not doing it."

"Why not?" Joker huffed and this time put his entire arm around the Scarecrow's shoulder. He squeezed when the man tensed. Joker smiled when he pat the guy on the chest with his free hand. Scarecrow really needed to learn to relax. "It's not like I'm asking you to do something outside of your field, Mr. Narcotics."

"I make people scream. Not laugh." Crane huffed and pulled his feet over the edge of the bed. He needed to get up and move before the Joker decided to strangle him or something. Sure he was all cuddly, but that just meant his hands were closer to Crane's throat should be have a sporadic moment. "There's a distinct difference if you hadn't noticed."

"Well, make'um scream with laughter then!" Joker watched the man struggle up onto one foot and start a comical hop towards the door while still trying to remain upright and poised. His dignity must be in pieces. Especially since he'd already fallen on his face twice since he felt well enough to move around. "You need to seriously lighten up, man."

Crane stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder with a sudden twitch. "You don't have a lighter on you, do you?"

"No..." Joker trailed off with a tilt of the head. "Why?"

"No reason."

The green haired man stood up and trotted over to wear his buddy was heading out the door. "You do know you can't say stuff like that without explaining, right?"

"I'd rather not give you any ideas." Crane shrugged. "You have enough of them as it is."

"What? Is it some big secret? You a smoker or something? Suddenly wanna' go _light up_? That it?" Joker made a motion with his hand mimicking a cigarette.

Crane snorted and hit his dead on the door with a short laugh. "That was worse than my joke."

"And what joke would that be?" Joker licked his lips and raised his eyebrows waiting for the man to continue. "Don't leave us all hanging, highness."

"Fine." Crane raised an eyebrow and wiped the smile off his face. With perfect deadpan delivery he explained himself. "The last time I told someone to 'lighten up' I set them on fire."

"With a lighter."

"Correct."

"So you've got that thief thing going on, then." Joker laughed, well it was more of a giggle, and struck his leg. "No wonder you're always so jumpy."

"Thief thing?"

"Yeah...that thing where if you're a thief you're doubly paranoid that everyone else is and get overprotective of your stuff." Joker smirked. "The last time you made a witty remark you set someone fire so you projected that I too would do the same to you had I a lighter. I'm surprised you didn't know that considering you're a shrink and all."

Crane stared blankly. "Or I was just making an inside joke to annoy you."

"You going to make my laughing gas or not?"

Crane rolled his eyes and hobbled towards the couch. "And for a moment I thought you were distracted."

"Ha ha, nope." Joker waved a hand in the air. "You'll come to find out when I set my mind on something, it usually happens."

Crane reached over the edge of the couch and picked up a small spiral notebook from the end table. He clicked open a pen plucked from his pocket before turning the book open. It was almost time for the weekly grocery run and if Crane didn't add what he wanted to the list now it'd never show up. If he was going to be a prisoner, Crane was at least going to eat well. "And what benefit do I get out of making you a toxic laughing gas, exactly?"

"I don't break your other leg...?" Joker trailed off while sauntering into the living room.

Crane scribbled down a few more items. "If I wasn't under the impression you'd break my other leg whether or not I cooperated, that might be a good incentive."

"You know, this is probably why I'm your only friend."

"Who said we were friends?" Crane frowned for moment. "Or that you were my _only_ friend."

"I did." Joker sat down on the couch and peered over at the list. Broccoli, juice, meat, seasoning, boring stuff...browsing down the list to the toiletries however, Joker looked at his friend funny. "Is there a reason you underlined the 'whitening' before 'toothpaste' two times?"

"Because last time you ordered some cheap tube that we both went through in about two days. I'm simply being specific." Crane went back to double check his list. "And anyway, last time I checked friends did not kidnap each other or break their friend's leg."

"That's only for normal people."

"Touché."

"So, that means you don't really have any reason to say no to making my laughing gas." Joker pat the man's thigh. "And I really will break your other leg."

"That's almost preferable as far as my pride is concerned." Crane shoved the man's hand off his leg. "It was bad enough I've been reduced to drug trafficking to test my toxin let alone finding myself working under someone else again."

"Now I get it." Joker licked his lips. "We've had a bit of a misunderstanding, Highness." The Scarecrow tried to lean away when the Joker once again put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him in tight; sort of a secret huddle. "I don't want you to work _for_ me, I want you to work _with_ me. A partnership, if you will."

"A partnership?" Crane asked slowly. "As in equal credit?"

 _Got him._ Joker smirked. When all else fails, appeal to the ego. "Just the thing to get the Scarecrow's name out of narcotics and back into something that really gets people shrieking."

"I still don't see how this will benefit me. You're asking for a laughing gas that'll kill people and freeze the smile on their face." Crane lifted an eyebrow. "My drugs usually don't kill as it's hard to study something if it's dead. No repeat trials, you see."

"Well, this isn't exactly for experimenting you know." Joker licked his lips and shook his head. "It's for fun." Scarecrow continued his 'holier-than-thou' stare of superiority. "Revenge on the Bat?" The smaller man's eyebrow quirked slightly. Right direction then. "Wouldn't you love to have him gasping on the ground struggling for breath just to die with an oh-so-ironic smile on his face?"

"I would enjoy that." Crane smiled. "But you'd never let me do it."

Joker stared for a moment. "And what makes you think that?"

"You want him alive." Crane cracked a smile. "My license may have been revoked, but I don't exactly need one to see that you'd be lost without a real rival."

"Well, damn. You are smart." Joker lifted the list of groceries out of Scarecrow's hands and smiled. "Make my fear gas or I'm not buying any more shampoo or soap." Joker fell back on the couch and stretched out, feet hanging over the edge and head in Scarecrow's lap. The dark haired man nearly jumped; must have dropped his head on the bad leg. Oops. "And I'm removing your bathing privileges."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Joker waved his finger. "I'm stronger than you, so I can definitely keep this threat. And since the breaking of legs or the joy of killing someone isn't getting you to see things my way, I'll just have to hit you where it really hurts."

"My hygiene." Crane muttered darkly, Joker's greasy hair even now leaving little stains on his pants.

Joker looked up into those smoldering baby blues and just smirked.

* * *

"Master Bruce, have you seen the news?"

"Is that a rhetorical question, Alfred?" Bruce muttered as he stared at the television. He knew that only bad things could come from the Joker breaking free from Arkham. But this, this was beyond his expectations. "How on earth did he pull this off?"

Alfred placed the newspaper on the table, image of the corpse staring up at the both of them. "I don't know, but it's obvious he's gotten help."

"Because there's no way he could have done this on his own. I'm betting there are reasons he mostly sticks to slicing people and blowing things up. This isn't his style at all – save for that after effect." Bruce flicked the remote to change the channel to the next station. The same graphic images of smiling faces littered the news. "But however he did it, this is a new low."

Alfred nodded solemnly. He'd heard people say they'd like to die with a smile on their face, but this seems to be a bit more than even those people bargained for. One would think that the horrible twisted position the poor fellows died in would be the most noticeable, but it wasn't. The smile plastered across their stretched faces, eyes wide, and in obvious agony kept all the attention to itself. "You might want to handle this one quickly."

"No kidding." Bruce reached for the paper and tried to find any facts that might help him out, but it seems the press was keeping the details quiet. "I may have to try and contact Gordon for this one. He's got to be using some sort of chemical to get that effect. Surely they've got a sample from the autopsy."

"Are you sure that's wise?" The butler looked at the screen again. Four bodies all in the same mutilated, ghastly position. "You are still wanted for the murder of five people. Even if he knows the truth, if you two get caught it'll be bad for the both of you."

"Well, it's either ask for a copy of the information or steal it. Either way, he'll be in trouble." Bruce smirked a little. "Or I could just steal a dead body and get my own sample? What do you think Alfred?"

"That you've been wearing that mask a little too long."

* * *

"You, Your Highness, are a genius."

"I already know, thank-you." Crane rolled his eyes at the praise from the giddy man. The moment their first few victims hit the news Joker'd been as excited as a schoolgirl. Crane continued to fiddle with a small toy in his lap and tried to ignore him. He didn't need press coverage to know his toxin was a success. "I'm impressed you managed to disperse the compound without infecting yourself."

"Yeah, about that. You really gotta make something that's a little more directed when you spray it." Joker held up the clear-plastic gas mask he'd been carrying around. "This thing totally ruins my style."

"I've already thought of it." Crane smirked and threw the flower he had been playing with at the Joker. "I'm a genius, remember?"

"What's this?" Joker held the object by the tube and looked at the tacky plastic flower and squeeze handle at the end.

"A squirting flower." Crane rolled his eyes. "What does it look like?"

"And what do I do with this?"

Crane picked up a small vile off his desk and shook it. "I figured out how to make a liquid version in my week alone chained to the bed while you were running freely about. A few seconds after it hits the air, the liquid becomes a gas."

"I see, I see." Joker smirked and plopped down onto the couch next to the good doctor. "Now, aren't you beginning to see things my way? I told you this was a good idea. You're enjoying yourself."

"I'm merely making the best of a bad situation." Crane shrugged and tried not to hit the Joker. He still would not take the hint that Crane did not like to be touched. "I'd have more fun if you'd let me leave this damn apartment."

"But you won't come back." Joker hummed and snatched the little vile of toxin. He checked the back of the flower for the connection to get this sucker working. "So, that would be a no-go."

Crane took in a deep breath. His leg was almost healed thanks to Joker kidnapping a doctor to set it properly after he started cooperating (not that Crane knew what happened to _that_ poor soul...) and now the cabin fever was getting to him. Not that he'd ever tell his forced companion, but the real reason he had made a liquid form of that blasted laughing toxin was because he was bored. Bored out of his mind. Crane needed out of this damn apartment. "What if we went out together?"

"I'm listening." Joker clicked the vile into place and turned the flower away from his face. Just in case.

"You said this was a partnership. It's only fair I should get to see my serum in action outside of this controlled environment."

"Yeah, but how are you going to follow along after me with that bum leg?" Joker chuckled. "Or can you hobble faster than I think you can?"

"If you got me a crutch I'm sure I could go much faster." Crane pointed down at the leg. "Maybe the fresh air will even help the recovery along."

"I still think this is you trying to get away."

"Haven't I done enough so far to be granted just a little bit of good faith?"

Joker did a tiny test spray with the flower and watched the liquid shoot out a good two feet before dispersing into a gas. Scarecrow didn't look exactly worried so it must be safe. "And what acts would those be?"

"I haven't tried to gas or poison you, have I?" Crane extended his arm to the mass of chemicals, poisons and other dangerous objects at his disposal on the make-shift workstation on the kitchen counter. Now granted, Crane didn't try poisoning him because there was a 50% chance something would go wrong and the attack fail and then he was as good as a dead man. Crane didn't like playing poor odds, but Joker didn't need to know that. "That has to count for something."

"Not really." Joker hummed and started to place the flower in his suit lapel. "That just means you're scared of me."

"For the love of." Crane held his forehead in his fingers and tried to even out of his breathing. "You know, I'm sure you could find someone much more willing to enjoy your company if you're really that lonely." Craned waited a beat. "Or someone else more fun to drive insane."

"Nah, you're pretty fun to drive insane." Joker laughed. "How many other people will I find who feel more threatened by the idea of not being allowed to bathe than bodily harm? You're a keeper!"

"I'm not a toy."

"No, no you're not." Joker smirked and fingered the flower thoughtfully while Scarecrow started to fidget on the couch. "But you're almost as good as one. How much more of this stuff can you make with what we've got here?"

Crane backed up into the couch automatically when the Joker pointed his new toy in his direction. Maybe giving him a projectile toxin wasn't the best of ideas if his immediate plan afterwards was to antagonize the man. "A few pints, maybe."

"Great!" Joker dropped onto the couch, arm yet again finding its way around Scarecrow's shoulder. There was just some joy in the way he'd flinch every time that he loved to abuse. "How about this- we go out together on a trial adventure and see where it goes from there."

"And you'll give me a set of crutches?"

"No."

"Then how am I going to keep up?" Crane huffed and took off his glasses. He rubbed them clean with a handkerchief and frowned when it got caught in the chipped glass.

"I'll walk slowly."

"And if Batman shows up and things turn for the worst? I'm not going back to Arkham just because I couldn't jump away fast enough on one leg."

"Oh, don't be silly." Joker pat the guy hard on the back. "I wouldn't let you try and get away with only one good leg by yourself." Scarecrow watched him with an odd glint. The kind of glint that said his little mind was whirling trying to figure out what the Joker meant. "I'd carry you, of course."

Crane let his head drop back onto the couch and wiped his face with his hand. "You know what? Just let him grab me. I'll go back to Arkham."

"Nah, I already told you." Joker straightened the flower neatly on his lapel. "You're a keeper."

Crane groaned into the couch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the next chapter. I'm up in the air with it. There's parts I like and parts I don't but that seems fairly standard, I think. That and this story is a little different from what I usually write; it has much larger gaps in time in a shorter number of words. I cant' help but feel it leaves the story a bit disjointed; but then again I want the reader to fill in the blanks themselves. Ah well. Thanks for reading and reviewing! It really does make my day!

"That," Crane drew out a pause. "Is not a crutch."

"It's good enough." Joker shrugged and gave the item in question a quick twirl. Scarecrow was giving him that 'you're an idiot' look yet again. He really needed to do something about that. Sure the guy was a narcissist, and Joker had no problem with that, but he didn't have to be so _obvious_ about it. "You're not exactly in a position to be choosy, you know."

"That is a stick." Crane hoped the disgust in his voice was getting through to the clown.

"A very tall, _walking_ stick." Joker corrected and passed the long, knotted piece of wood over. It had a diameter of about two and a half inches, more or less in some places as it twisted. Though it was more or less straight. Point of the matter was, Scarecrow needed something to lean on to keep up and Joker found him something. Scarecrow was way too obsessed with the specifics. "It's the same thing."

"It's _not_ the same thing."

"Listen, you should really appreciate the work that went into finding that." Joker took a step closer to Scarecrow and wrapped the man's hand tightly around the wrapped area that served as a 'handle'. He pressed the thin man's bony fingers together hard enough that he assumed it was painful. "Do you know how long it took me to find a stick that I could beat a man to death with that wouldn't break? This is a high quality walking staff and you're going to use it."

"Right..." Crane swallowed deeply and tried not to wince as he felt the bones in his fingers rub together at their joints.. "And why, per say, did you go to all that effort?"

"To make you scary, of course." Joker licked his lips and watched as Scarecrow's eyebrow raised. "Well, a little scary. Face it highness, you're not all that frightening." Joker pat the man's chest. "I mean, adding the noose to your ensemble was a nice touch on your part, but the suit sort of ruins the effect. But it's not horrible. A suit can be scary I guess but that's not the point. You achieve a mild level of scary and dignity using a suit, a burlap sack and a noose. Now, consider if we sent you out there looking like that – and add a medicinal crutch. What would that make you?"

"Not scary." Crane deadpanned.

"Worse." Joker hissed. "Not only would it negate anything you've built up for your image, but it'd make you a laughingstock." Joker squeezed his hands even tighter around the stick and heard one of the man's joints pop. "I don't work with laughingstocks. Got it?"

Crane flinched with every syllable. "Of course."

"Great!" Joker nodded and released Scarecrow. The man instantly cradled the staff in one arm so he could rub his fingers. "Now all we have to do is figure out where we're going to go."

"You don't know?" Crane muttered. The Joker was getting steadily more violent as they spent time together. Crane was starting to feel like a dog being trained with a newspaper: a hit for every time he did something wrong and a treat for when he preformed a trick correctly. Shame he hadn't earned a treat lately; but then again, it wasn't like Crane was trying. "Aren't you the little leader of this expedition?"

"Well excuse me." Joker huffed and stuck his tongue in his cheek. What did it take to make Scarecrow get with the program? If he would have known the man was going to be this obstinate he would have just broke the guy's other leg. "You're the one who wanted to go out and do something."

"And I do, I just figured you'd want to be in charge." Crane waved his hand in the air. "But if you don't want to I'll be more than happy to plan something."

"No."

"I figured as much." Crane sighed and turned the stick over in his hand. It was fairly nice as a scary, intimidating stick. But he wasn't sure how well it was going to work as a crutch; it was taller than he was! "So, what spontaneous action will we be taking then?"

"Just, sit still for a minute." Joker turned around and grabbed Scarecrow by the shoulders. He smiled comfortingly as he ushered the man towards the back bedroom, holding in the laugh as he tried to avoid putting pressure on the broken leg. "You go change into your little costume and by the time you come back I know what we'll be doing."

"Fine."

Joker rubbed his fingers together as the door slammed shut and the little Scarecrow changed into the new suit his best friend had 'bought' him. Tonight was going to be fun.

* * *

Batman knew something bad was going to happen. He drove the small car along the streets of Gotham looking for any sign of trouble. The feeling growing inside of him was strong enough to risk being caught out in public when he was still enemy number one. It was good to listen to your gut in a city like this where madmen roomed free; Bruce had to believe that. And the worst of the worst was still out there among them, even if he was less threatening than usual. The Joker was still poisoning people here and there, but for the most part he'd stayed pretty low off the radar.

Well, save for holding up that suit store.

Bruce rolled his eyes under his mask. Just when he thinks he might just have a handle on the man, Joker goes and does the unpredictable to throw him of again. The man robbed a men's clothing store and for clothing that was obviously not his size. Even the store clerks were confused when he handed them someone else's size. He sighed softly and kept driving through the narrows and hoped that this smaller black vehicle might go unnoticed. It was hardly a tumbler. Bruce tried not to miss his tank in between watching the streets.

Though, he didn't have time to linger on such thoughts for long. The explosion two blocks down in the market district did wonders for distractions.

* * *

Crane leant on his stick and watched the Joker work. Burning fruit and vegetables littered the ground while people fell over in uproarious laughter. He could see fires burning in every direction from behind his mask and Joker had taken to gassing anything that moved with his new flower, freed of his own gas mask. It was completely and utter chaos in the tiny shopping district.

And Crane was still bored.

Sure he was out of the apartment; sure he was in the middle of the action. But that didn't mean anything if he really wasn't doing anything. Crane had no intention of using the laughing gas himself; it wasn't his style and to be honest he rather didn't appreciate the after effects as much as the Joker. He had only made it out of fear for his hygiene and to see if he could; not because he actually wanted to see it work. A living subject whimpering in a corner or fighting back ravenously in a desperate attempt to defend itself was far more rewarding to watch than a dead corpse. They didn't even scream with the laughing gas! It was utterly insipid. But Crane digressed.

Aside from gassing his victims, there wasn't much Crane could do. Sure he could hit people with the walking stick, but then he'd fall over trying to balance on one leg. Physical activity was never his thing. So, Crane stood on the sidelines and watched passively as Joker had his fun. All in all, though, things could be worse. At least he wasn't in the apartment anymore. A change of scenery was doing him good.

"Highness!" Joker strut over to his very docile friend, purple coat flapping behind him. Everyone within a thirty foot radius was either dead or laughing on the ground so it was safe to go find out what his partner so quiet. "What's the deal? If you were just going to stand there, ya' uh, could have just stayed at home and watched on TV."

"But then I wouldn't be getting all this fresh air."

Joker stared and rubbed his hair back. "Right...all that fresh air you're getting through the sack on your head." The clown turned around and scrunched his face. "Sometimes I wonder how you got out of school, highness. 'Cause right now you're sort of living up to those straw for brains comments that some people may have, uh, circulated."

"I graduated with flying colors." Crane muttered under his breath. How dare he insult Crane's schooling! He was top of his class and one of the youngest graduates! Crane took in a deep breath and tried to calm himself. "Is this it or did you have something else planned for this evening?"

Joker started to dig through his pockets until he found a little switch held together with duct tape. "Just one thing left to do here and then we can move on to stop two on our little field trip."

"Is that detona-" Crane was cut off by Joker pressing the button. From somewhere behind the man on the other half of the shopping center, a large blast burst through the stands shattering everything next to it. Joker just stood there licking his lips. "Was that necessary?"

"No." Joker skipped over and slapped the other man on the shoulder. "But it was fun."

"And that's obviously all that matters." Crane rolled his eyes for what felt like the tenth time that evening. Joker turned back to kick at the mess that had fallen in his direction after the blast. The grown man kicked a can and giggled. Crane wondered how fast he could hobble away while he was distracted. "So, where to next?"

"Man you're impatient." Joker shook his head. "You need to learn to relax and enjoy the moment. Planning every little thing out really doesn't get you anywhere. It just creates ulcers."

Crane didn't bother giving a response and instead concentrated on using the stick as a crutch to try and get away from the flames steadily licking at the area around him. Joker followed him walking slowly and making a performance out of not passing him. Crane tried to restrain himself from smacking the man with the walking stick and seeing if it really could beat a man to death without breaking.

Instead, he choose the wiser option of continuing on his way to the street and away from the fire. Upsetting the lunatic (Crane was now fairly convinced the man was disturbed at the very least) was no in his best interest. He got a few feet away and turned back to look at the burning building and the curled up corpses littering the street. His stomach did a little flip inside and he swallowed. Hiding his disgust behind boredom would only last so long. The Joker played the game in an entirely different ball park; of that Crane had never been more certain than he was at this very moment.

And all of a sudden, he feared ended up on the receiving end should he not cooperate. It was like a sudden stone had just dropped in his stomach and the only thing running through his mind was _How did I not notice this sooner!?_

"You know the only thing that would make this better, highness?" Joker leant back on his heels as he saw the man next to him start to shake just the tiniest bit. Joker wondered if it was from excitement or fear; he hoped excitement.

"What?" Crane managed to choke out.

"If the Batman would show up." Joker nodded. "That would be awesome."

"You can't be-" And Crane was cut off again by the sound of an engine screeching to a halt behind them. Out from the sleek black car jumped none other than the Bat Man. It seemed he was going without his tank tonight. "It's official, Joker. You are a jinx."

* * *

Well, at least one of the things Bruce saw as he walked up was to be expected. The Joker stood there grinning like always; in this day and age if there was an explosion in Gotham, chances are the Joker was behind it. What Bruce didn't suspect, was the Scarecrow standing next to him with a large staff. Crane didn't seem like the type to be associated with the Joker for any reason. Though, Bruce thought, it would explain where Joker got laughing gas from.

"Batman!" Joker exclaimed with arms open wide. "We were just talking about how great it would be if you showed up and here you," Joker licked his lips. "Are."

"Up to your old tricks, Joker?" Batman spoke to the Joker but kept his eyes on the Scarecrow. He was definitely the wild card tonight. "And since when did you stoop to straight out murder, Crane?"

Crane straightened himself as tall as he could while pretending not to shake underneath his suit and mask. As much as he loathed to admit; Batman still terrified him. The vision of him from beneath the fog of his own fear gas was an image he was likely to never scrub from his mind. "I assure you, it is not by choice."

"Oh, now don't say things like that." Joker slapped Scarecrow on the back and listened to the man hiss when it forced him to put weight on the broken leg. "You'll hurt my feelings." Joker turned over to Batman with a stern look on his face. "Little Scarecrow here wanted to go out and who was I to turn down my good friend's request?" Joker rubbed the man's back and put just enough pressure to _dare_ him to contradict what he was saying. "That would make me a horrible roommate. Am I horrible roommate, Johnny?"

"No, of course not." Crane breathed and turned his eyes to batman. "We're on a field trip." Crane found himself licking his own lips and was thankful the mask hid the action. "A sight seeing trip of the narrows, if you will."

"See? We're just two buddies hanging out and trying out his newest little creation." Joker swept his arm back at the now smoldering building; the fire having died down once it reached the pavement and brick siding. The smiling faces still littered the ground. "Isn't he a genius?"

"It's sick." Batman narrowed his eyes and took a good look at the scene before him. Crane was shaking and there was a good chance he hadn't been lying when he said it wasn't by choice. Any man who was that obsessed with scaring other people was most likely a coward; it probably wouldn't be hard to scare him into cooperating. Senseless murder wasn't Crane's style; he preferred people ripping into each other and killing by proxy instead of direct methods. "You're a disturbed individual, Joker."

"Ah, I knew you liked me." Joker smiled and took his hand off Scarecrow. "Now, why don't you and I play? You know how much I love our little romps." He watched Batman's eyes trail over to his Highness and shook his head. "Don't worry about Johnny here," Joker thew a thumb over his shoulder to Scarecrow. "He won't be joining in."

"And how can I believe that?" Batman smirked a little. A scared animal was far more dangerous than a confident one. "How do I know he won't hit me in the back while I'm taking care of you?"

Joker snorted and yanked Scarecrow's staff away from him suddenly. The man of course lost his balance and hit the pavement, full weight falling on the bad leg. Scarecrow screamed and curled up into a ball attempting to cradle his leg. Joker dropped the stick and let it clatter on the ground next to him. "He broke his leg last week, so I really doubt he wants to tangle in a fight."

Crane's eyes began to water as he sat on the ground clutching his leg. He felt utterly humiliated and helpless. He sucked in a breath and tried to sit up but could only see spots in front of his eyes from the pain. What was worse - even Batman looked a little shocked and was that pity? Things couldn't possibly get any worse.

Bruce was now fairly certain that Crane wasn't aligned with the Joker at will. Not that it mattered; they were both still wanted men and had appointments at Arkham. This didn't change the situation in the slightest. Though, he did notice the tiniest bit of pity for the other man well in his chest. The Joker was a monster; compared to him the corrupt Dr. Crane was nothing. "Be that as it may, the only thing happening right now, Joker, is you going back to Arkham."

"Make me." Joker grinned and took out a knife. He hoped Scarecrow enjoyed the show, because this was going to be fun.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today; but that's alright. I'm actually pretty happy with this one. Also, Joker sneaking into Scarecrow's room is definitely inspired by Lauralot's "Mad Love." Its just too good of an idea not to abuse and try to write at least once. Thanks for reading and reviewing everybody! :D

"You're not still mad are you?"

"Shut up. Don't talk to me."

"Oh, don't be like that."

Crane refused to answer and instead concentrated on eating his meager breakfast from the Arkham cafeteria. Due to the man sitting across from him, the other inmates refused to sit within five chairs of him at the long, cafeteria like tables. Speaking of said annoyance: Somehow, **somehow** Joker had been allowed outside of his high security cell to interact with the other inmates. Or he broke out and they hadn't bothered to restrain him as it would be too much effort. Either was possible, but that didn't matter. Crane refused to talk to him.

It had been a record defeat.

Crane scowled even more fiercely as the events of the last few days came back to him. The Bat Man must have figured out that if he didn't take down the 'bad guys' quickly he might get caught by the police and arrested himself. (Not that Crane could figure out why he was still fighting crime after murdering five people...) Joker had pouted for a full day in his cell after it was discovered that he was taken down with two swift hits thanks to the wonderful news media. Apparently the Batman had been pulling his punches; Crane just assumed he was finally truly angry at them for the laughing gas.

Actually, Crane was certain Batman was just really pissed off at Joker for his latest smile scheme. Though, he would be lying if he actually stayed and watched if Joker ever got back up from those two hits to continue the fight. The Scarecrow had been far too busy trying to crawl away while fighting through the pain in his leg. Sadly, he didn't make it very far and Batman basically picked him up by the scruff of his neck and threw him handcuffed in the back seat of his car next to the very unconscious and bleeding Joker. So not only a quick, but undoubtedly embarrassing and painful defeat.

And now, Crane was stuck in Arkham with Joker. Just wonderful.

"You can't blame me for this." Joker licked his lips and tapped the table with a single finger. Scarecrow pouty was amusing only for so long. His partner really needed to knock off this sulky thing he was doing. Joker had been patient enough over the month. Time to get the guy over himself and mold into something more fitting to be called a 'better class of criminal.' "It was your idea to go out."

Crane glared through his glasses and took another bite out of his powered eggs.

Joker crossed his arms on the table and leaned in, licking his lips. He lowered his voice just enough so that those idiots trying to ease drop from down the table took a hint to mind their own business. "This silent treatment thing is going to get old pretty quick, ya' know." Scarecrow continued eating the yellow stuff on his tray. "Just because they put your leg in a cast doesn't mean I can't break it again."

Crane slammed his fork down on the tray and glared. "Fine." The good doctor was furious with himself for breaking his resolve so quickly, but the last thing he needed was privileges taken away fro the fight that would occur should Joker attempt to re-break his leg. Or that's what Crane told himself anyway; the great Scarecrow was **not** frightened. He took a deep breath and forced another bite of egg down his throat. "I still blame you."

Joker smirked and pulled Scarecrow's tray towards himself and flipped it around to set it neatly in his own empty tray. That was far too easy, but despite that the skinny man was still glaring at him, fork half pulled away from his mouth. Joker reached over and plucked the fork out of the man's hand and decided to finish off the eggs for him. If the Scarecrow kept eating like that he'd get fat; who ever heard of a fat scarecrow? "And how was it my fault?"

Scarecrow took a breath and stared at his breakfast as it disappeared into the clown's mouth. _Breathe._ He'd just have to eat quickly at lunch. "When the Bat Man showed up, we could have left. You didn't have to fight him."

"What's the fun in running?" Joker scraped the bottom of the tray.

Crane rolled his eyes. "None, the point was if you were by yourself it would have been fine. But, if I remember correctly you stated you would help me get away at the very least if we went out because you refused to provide a crutch. You did not do that so therefore I blame you."

"I gave you a walking stick."

"That you snatched from me." Crane hissed and smacked the table. He did his best to keep his voice low, but couldn't help if it rose a little. The ex-professor only hoped that the guards didn't care enough about them to do anything. "The fall re-split my leg at the break. Do you know how painful it was when they reset the damn thing in the clinic?"

"Well, that was your fault in the first place." Joker hummed and dropped the fork in the tray. "I wouldn't have broken your leg if you hadn't tried to leave. And it's the broken leg that got you caught and I did my part to give you a _crutch_. So, it's all your fault we got caught." Joker reached across the table and pat the Scarecrow's hand almost lovingly before holding it. "But it's okay, uh, I know you're just embarrassed about everything and just want to redirect your anger onto something else. Everybody does it, I forgive you."

"Y-you." Crane sputtered indignantly. He could feel his lip curling in anger, but stopped cold when he saw those brown eyes start to ice over. Apparently this was Crane's warning to drop the subject and move on before more than just his leg was broken. It was amazing what a single, piercing glare could communicate, really. Blue eyes quickly darted to the side to break contact and Crane sighed. "Never mind."

"See? Doesn't it feel much better to get that off your chest?"

Crane's stomach growled and he dropped his forehead into the table. "Yup. I'm feelin' just peachy."

* * *

"Any progress, Commissioner?" Bruce asked from his perch on the fire escape. His meetings with Gordon had to be random and brief to prevent any chance of association, but he did appreciate every minute he had alone with the other man. "Or is Crane still keeping his mouth shut about the toxin?"

"We're getting close to breaking it." Gordon spoke around a glass of milk while hanging out of his window. "Finding a vile of it raw on the Joker is helping with creating an antidote. Its making the lab's job much easier." He took in a deep breath and smiled softly. It was a nice night and the wind was blowing softly.

Batman took note that the Commissioner didn't answer the second part of his question. Which was a shame, Bruce had almost hoped that Crane might offer up an antidote since he made the toxin under duress in the first place. "So the toxin's creator isn't cooperating I take it."

"That'd be correct. I actually don't blame Crane for not talking, though. The guards and doctors have all expressed concerns about the Joker harassing him at Arkham. However, it's nothing severe enough yet to warrant restraint. They can't really do anything though unless he complains and it's obvious he's far too frightened to say anything."

"So he's more frightened by Joker than the police." Bruce sighed. That was wonderful. The Joker just loved to make his life miserable, didn't he? But, at least he wasn't the current focus of the man's attention. It was awful to think, but he was almost glad Crane was stealing some of the limelight. Bruce needed the break from the clown. "I'll be by again. Good luck with the antidote."

"At least there won't be any new victims with the two of them locked up." Gordon started and stopped again. The Dark Knight had left unexpectedly. Gordon took a deep drink and finished off the glass before heading back inside. "At least some things never change."

* * *

Crane rolled over in his sleep and felt himself smack into something warm and solid.

If Crane had been a wise man, he would have done his best to ignore it and stay asleep. If he was lucky, the warm surface would be gone by morning and he could act like it was never there. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. Sadly, Crane was smart and eager for knowledge; not wise. So he felt obligated to open his eyes and find out what this large, firm object in his bed might be. Even if he was fairly certain he knew what it was before he opened his eyes. "Why are you here?" Crane muttered into the other body's orange shirt.

When Scarecrow started to pull away, Joker threw his arms around him and kept him in place. Snuggling was fun and he so rarely got to do it with anyone. Their bed at the apartment was a king so they had a good foot and some between them. He would have snuggled then, but Scarecrow's leg was broken and the guy got so pissy when it hurt. This little cot made it possible to snuggle without trying- they wouldn't even fit on the bed if they didn't. It was the perfect excuse! "I was thinking."

"About?" Scarecrow grit through his teeth and took in calming breathes. Joker was proving to be the most random individual he'd ever met. The man had more mood swings than a pregnant woman. "And how long have you been here?"

"Oh, maybe an hour or so. But it's not like I haven't watched you sleep before so no need to get so upset." Joker hummed. "But anyway, that's not important." Joker pulled an arm up to lean his head on. "Is it possible to make a non-lethal version of that laughing gas?"

Crane tried to push back a little to get some breathing room but was held in place. His face was now squished into the man's chest as the grip on his waist kept Crane from falling off the bed with the tight squeeze. Crane was thankful the Joker kept his molesting to a minimum. He was doubly thankful that his leg was in a cast at this point or he was sure it would be aching. "I guess. Why?"

"Well, I was thinking it'd be fun to have a gas that just made you laugh and wouldn't let you stop...so they just kept going instead of dying and, uh, just falling still." Joker began to play with Scarecrow's dark hair. It was a little greasy. He almost laughed considering Scarecrow had better hygiene maintenance under his care than here at Arkham. "I'm startin' to get a little bored with just killing things."

"I see." Crane rolled his eyes. The lie was about as subtle as a jackhammer in the middle of a construction site. Joker wasn't bored with killing; he just wanted something else to play with. "I suppose I could do that." He turned his head up as much as he could to look the man in the eyes again. It wasn't much of an advantage, but then he could at least get a tiny peak past the man's face and into his head. If he remembered anything from his psychiatry days, it was that watching faces for their tiny quirks and expressions was extremely important. "I take it you have an escape plan then?"

"Sort of." Joker hummed. "But I'll tell you that later." Scarecrow hit the ground with a thick thud and a quiet moan when Joker abruptly stood, dumping him out of the bed. The man skipped over to the cell door and gave a little wave. "Sorry, but uh, if I don't go now they might notice I'm missing." Joker smirked and opened the door and shut it quickly, yet quietly.

Crane was still staring at the door with an incredulous face and a sore rump (he had thankfully not landed on the broken leg) when he heard the lock click back into place. For what felt like the hundredth time in the past month, Crane had to wonder: _What have I gotten myself into?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoot. I'm on a roll. Well, for now anyway. I got through the episode 'Mad Love' in season four of Batman and couldn't resist. Besides, ever since I mentioned her in the first chapter, Harley needed to make an appearance. :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!

"Ms. Quinzel, I do appreciate the efforts but this is truly pointless." Crane sighed and slouched into the chair (he refused to sit on the couch) in the corner of the small office. Before him sat a tight-laced blonde with glasses on her face and hair up in a bun. Harleen Quinzel, the latest hire for Arkham's fine psychiatric staff. "We both know that you don't have the schooling to be _my_ psychiatrist and the only reason that I am here is because you're the only person on staff that of with I do not have a prior history."

Harley held in the sigh. Her patient did have a point about how they came to be in the room together, but he didn't have to sound so damn smug about it. For a guy who had his license revoked he sure talked like he owned the building. It was almost funny considering he was dressed in the standard Arkham uniform and had his leg in a cast. He was the picture of pathetic and he still thought he was superior. "I understand you're upset, Jonathan."

"Doctor Crane, if you don't mind." Crane paused as she lifted an eyebrow. Clearly she was taking to heart the revoking of his license. He had still earned the degree, but he wasn't in the mood to argue that point with the little bimbo. "Fine, if my schooling means nothing to you, than 'Professor Crane' will do. But we are _not_ on a first name basis."

"Of course, Professor." Harley forced a smile on her face. She was going to kill Leland for saddling her with this man. "So, since you know the drill so well having _been_ a doctor yourself, where would you like to start?"

"Let's start with you." Jonathan sat up straighter and mimicked her pose in the chair, minus the clipboard of course. "I know I don't remember coming across your resumé while they were considering who to hire, so you must have submitted one over the past year or so. Taking in your age, I'm guessing you're fresh out of school, maybe a few years out depending on how quickly you completed your courses?"

"It doesn't quite match your resumé, but I did graduate a year early."

"So this is your first professional occupation then?" Crane smirked and laced his fingers together.

"Yes." Harley looked at the clock and sighed. It seemed the good professor was stalling for time to avoid actually talking about himself.

"Though, I probably shouldn't call it a 'professional' occupation when we come back down to the fact that you are, an intern." Crane smirked and faked a sigh. "My, this place really has fallen apart in the year or so I've been gone. Do tell me, what exactly did you say to impress Leland so much to actually fill that vacant internship spot?"

"I don't believe that's any of your concern, _Professor_." Harley tapped her pen against the clipboard. "But it seems I should have clarified my question. Where would you like to start, concerning talking about yourself?"

"It's all rather droll, I assure you." Crane tapped a finger against his hand. "Nothing I haven't self-analyzed myself. In all honesty you're the one who should be talking. Even when I was working here, it wasn't every patient that got to see me professionally. You should take this opportunity to get some free counseling yourself with one of the best Arkham had to offer."

Harley could feel her grip on the pen tighten and she pushed her glasses up higher on her nose. _You're a professional, Harley-girl. He's a homicidal lunatic suffering from a bad case of narcissism. Breathe._ "Well, why don't we try that for a bit since we've already used up so much time today."

Crane smiled and sat back. Arkham's standards had really lowered since his days as administrator as far as hiring new help was concerned. This was too easy. "Tell me, what made you want to work with lunatics?"

* * *

"Dude, Highness." Joker started and leaned over the table with a slight giggle. He had been hearing the best gossip about Scarecrow all day and dinner was the first time he'd been able to confirm the rumors from the straw-man himself. "I heard through the grapevine, that ya, uh, made her _cry_."

"Don't be so impressed." Crane smiled into his tray and took a bite out of the mashed potatoes. The one thing they did right on the menu at Arkham. "I was making interns cry when I was working here legitimately. They're easy."

"Still, not a very nice way to treat a lady, ya' know." Joker smirked and licked his lips. Man he missed the taste of his lip stick; it was bitter. "Even if she is a bit on the easy side."

"Too easy. She was gushing before the end of our session." Crane took another bite out of the creamy goodness on his tray. "I was hoping to just make her upset today and break her next week."

"Seems ya' don't know your own strength, there Your Majesty." Joker snuck his hand towards his good buddy's tray and exclaimed "Ow!" when Scarecrow smacked his hand. Highness didn't say anything at breakfast or lunch; what made him violent now? "What was that for?"

"I don't care if you steal my breakfast but you leave my salisbury steak and mashed potatoes alone you garbage disposal."

"Crush on the lunch menu, much?" Joker huffed and rubbed his wrist. For a guy who looked and fought like a girl, he could hit really hard when he was motivated. Who knew it'd be over lousy kitchen food. "You're going to get fat."

"Good." Crane took another bite and continued on as if he hadn't hit the man who probably scared him the most. Inside of Arkham at least, the Bat Man was still number one on the...Crane turned back to the matter at hand. He let a little smile fall on his face however at the next bite of potato lathered in fake butter. "If I lose my girlish figure you might finally lose interest in your little 'queen.'"

Joker couldn't help but lift an eyebrow. "You're in a good mood."

"Making women cry does that for me." Crane started in on his 'steak.' Not nearly as good as the mashed potatoes, but it did have its charm. Not that he'd tell anyone, but he'd usually sneak himself a tray of it when he used to work here. Guilty pleasures at their best. "How fast did that information spread, anyway? It only happened this morning and I doubt she told anybody other than Leland."

"I have my ways of finding this stuff out." Joker stretched his arms out and stole the brownie off of Scarecrow's tray. "Not all of us like to spend our time in the cell, you know."

"Shame, I personally enjoy being able to catch up on my reading." Crane took another bite of dinner. He could have cared less about the brownie. Savory foods would always top sweets in his book. "You know they actually kept all my books? It was a piece of cake getting Leland to transfer them all to my cell. It was fun to know I was still receiving my issues of Psychiatrist Monthly. I had over twelve back issues to catch up on. The September issue even featured a wonderful article on Fear's influence over-"

Joker shoved Scarecrow's fork into his mouth. "Breathe, there highness." Joker shook his head when the man scowled at him. "I don't think I've ever heard you say so much at one time."

Crane pulled the fork out of his mouth and swallowed. "What can I say? I'm back in my element. It's not like we had a lot to talk about in that dingy apartment." He shoved another bite of potato into his mouth. Talking around the piece, he added a last hit. "And I was mad at you for the whole kidnapping thing."

"I didn't kidnap you." Joker shrugged. "You're not a kid. Heck, I think you're older than me."

Crane took a good look at the man without all the make-up and considered that statement. Without the make-up, the skin was much smoother than he had expected. "We're probably around the same age."

"Eh, doesn't really matter." Joker drummed his fingers on the table. "Think they'll put you in a room with the little cutie again?"

"It's up to her." Crane shrugged. "Whether or not she'd like to continue our sessions is her decision. They have very little other option to provide me with the state required treatment. Though it is possible they'll just stick me with Leland. Out of all the doctors I probably got along with her the best."

"Gonna' make her cry too?"

"I think the silent treatment would work best with her." Crane looked down at his empty tray and sighed. Curse Arkham policy of no seconds. "Unlike Ms. Quinzel, Leland actually cares about the patients here and their recovery. Keeping quiet will hurt her far more than any attempt at lashing out will." Joker was staring at him with an intense look, tongue lodged in his cheek. "Is there a problem?"

"What do you mean 'unlike Ms. Quinzel' exactly?"

"I mean she's a glory hound. She's here looking to make it big treating some high profile lunatic. Gotham collects them, so this is the place to look." Crane shoved his tray to the side. "She's a disgrace to the profession."

"Huh," Joker shook his head. His buddy was _nuts_ if he thought he could get away with a line like that after what he did to his little patients. "I'll have to keep that in mind."

"Whatever floats your boat." Crane sighed at his tray again and looked around the cafeteria. "Tell me if you see anyone with an untouched tray."

"Why?"

"Because I want seconds but I have no intention of eating after any of these filthy people."

Joker laughed into his arms even when Crane hit him in the head with the tray and told him to "Shut up." Man it was good to be him.

* * *

"I'm going to wring that bastard's neck." Harley snarled as she bunched up copy paper from the fax machine in her hands. She had originally gone for the man's file, but realized that destroying documents could get her fired. "That...that. Ohh. how dare he."

Leland sat back in the employee's lounge and sipped at a cup of tea. "I'm glad you're not crying anymore, Harley, but you might want to calm down. Part of this job is realizing that your patients are very sick and they'll say things they may not mean because they're angry and confused at being locked up. Especially for new patients like Jonathan."

"You mean 'Professor Crane'" Harley quoted the air. "He refused to let me call him by anything else."

"I'm only on a first name basis because we used to work together." Leland sighed and walked over to Harley. "That's why you're working with him. It's a conflict of interest for myself or Dr. Bartholomew to give him the treatment he needs to get back into society. Otherwise we would have never let an Intern treat such an advanced patient."

"Are you saying I can't handle this?" Harley's anger dropped to give way to an almost insulted gasp.

"Well, you are displaying signs of unnecessary stress. I just assumed that you'd be dropping him as a patient." Leland paused. "You're not considering continuing the sessions are you?"

"Of course I am." Harley put her hands on her hip and took in a deep breath. If she didn't get rid of her anger quickly than Dr. Leland wouldn't _let_ her keep going. Harley wouldn't get anywhere if she couldn't handle _Crane._ "I had a rough first session but now I know what to expect. I'm completely ready for another round."

"Just be sure that you are, Harley." Leland sighed. "You get one more chance. If you have any more trouble with Jonathan I can not in good practice allow you to continue treating him."

"Don't worry Dr. Leland," Harley forced a smile. "I may be an intern, and I may have gone in with my guard down but I know what I'm doing."

"For your sake, I hope that you do."

* * *

"You're not going to make a habit of this, are you?" Crane muttered once again into the chest of his new 'partner.' Even in his head, the term was used loosely. "Because I do like my sleep."

"I know you do." Joker muttered and flipped on his back and yanked Scarecrow on top of him. Snugging in a tight space is fun, but staying on his side so much was a pain. Highness was glaring at him now and trying to rearrange himself. Joker allowed him a little movement to do so. "You did it a lot back at our place."

"So are you just here to be annoying or do you have something to say? Because if you're here to pester I'm going to sleep even if you do end up being a disturbing pillow." Crane muttered and rubbed his eyes. He was sure Leland snuck a sleeping pill into his medications or else it wouldn't be such a hassle to stay awake. He was almost surprised he had woken up in the first place, but the world still felt rather drugged. He could barely keep up the anger at Joker sneaking in his room.

"Just to be annoying."

"Good night."

Joker held in a giggle when Highness got one last glare in before his head hit Joker's chest and the little guy was out like a light. That sleeping pill he snuck into Scarecrow's meds was worth it. There was no way the guy was going to agree to the plan. Queenie liked it at Arkham more than he cared to admit. If they stayed here any longer he might just settle in. Joker stroked the hair a little. Sure the guy threw a fit for getting thrown in, but it was only two days later and he was happy as a bluebird.

Joker needed a damn crow.

"Time to go, highness." Joker smiled as he picked up the Scarecrow bridal style. He whistled almost happily as he stepped out into the hallway and over the prone body of the guard. It was a nice night for a break out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short chapter, but it's a good stopping point so I'll live with it. Thanks for reading everyone!

Something wasn't right.

That was all Crane could think as he felt himself coming out of sleep. It wasn't a 'Joker's in my bed again, dammit' sort of wrong. It was a different, sort of like it but still have a bad feeling swelling in your gut sort of something. Crane realized the only way he was going to discover what was going on was to wake up. So he opened his eyes slowly to: "Purple sheets?"

Either Arkham had redone all of their bedding while they slept into colors other than white - or Crane was no longer in Arkham. Crane sat up slowly in his bed and saw a familiar wall with peeling wallpaper. That was it; Crane was dreaming. There was no way he was back in that dingy apartment that he and Joker had shared before the Bat Man decided to ruin their 'fun field trip.'

Crane pinched his cheek.

"Yup, still here." Crane moaned to himself. "Just, wonderful." Though, Crane did have to wonder when Joker got new sheets for the awful bed in the only bedroom. Or how he got there. Crane looked over at the dusty flickering TV (Joker must have been watching...) playing old black and white films. After thinking for a moment, Crane decided that maybe he didn't want to know how he got out of Arkham.

There was probably blood involved and killing and other things. "Where is that remote?" Crane muttered to himself. He was sure if he really wanted to know, it would be airing on the news. Heaven knows everything the Joker did was news worthy. However, as he shifted on the bed and began to fully wake up, Crane realized that something else was just not right.

* * *

Joker whistled happily to himself in the familiar little kitchen. It wasn't often that he used a hide-out more than once. It's not that he was getting _attached_ to this little abode, but it did have a steel pipe in the kitchen and a homey sort of feel that he rather liked. It was cracked and dirty; in other words - it had real character. Joker cracked open the fridge as he spread his make-up on his face. That was the biggest pain of showers - reapplying the make-up afterwards.

He sucked on his lips as he stared at the empty kitchen appliance. He half expected there to be at least rotting food inside, but apparently they had cleaned it out. Joker kicked the door shut and continued on his hunt through the cabinets. A man can't go out and complete big plans and schemes on an empty stomach.

It just wasn't done.

And oh did he have plans. While in Arkham, Joker's mind was in over drive. Through his nightly explorations he had discovered the 'secret' wing of Arkham. Where you stick people who are supposed to be 'dead.' Joker grinned as he found a box of crackers in a corner. They tasted a bit stale, but they would do. If all went according to plan, than his little Scarecrow was about to have a friend and his happy little household would increase by one.

It always made him giggle when he realized people _believed_ that he didn't make any plans. That bullshit 'Agent of Chaos' speech that he had given to Harvey. What? Did they think he created a monster like their precious White Knight without any thought? That he just so happened to have a police officer name tag created specifically for Harvey to find? That he just worked the angles as they came? Those were the real idiots. But not Joker, no, he was the real genius.

He made careful, thought-out planning look like random, fair, chaos. Joker made this an art.

"JOKER!"

Said painted man dropped his latest cracker onto the counter when he heard the exclamation come from the back room. Looks like his little pet woke up. Scarecrow definitely screeched like a bird, that was for sure.

"Morning sunshine."

Crane slammed open the bedroom door clutching at the hideous purple sheets. His breaths were causing his chest to hurt with the heavy exhaling. He tried to calm his angry breathing, but Crane was finding it harder than expected. "Where are my clothes?"

"Around here somewhere." Joker shrugged and held in the snicker at the sight of a _fu_ rious Queen. And he did look like a queen all dressed in a purple robe or silk. It was definitely worth the odd looks in that department store stealing nice silk sheets while hauling a drugged out Scarecrow on his back. "I wasn't really paying attention where I threw the jumpsuit when I stripped ya' down."

Crane sucked in a breath through his teeth. Wide awake, angry and growling he realized they were indeed in the same apartment. Teeth still clenched, Crane continued his demands very slowly. "Where are my clothes that were in the drawers in the bedroom?"

"Oh, those." Joker laughed. "I've been thinking it's time you got a new wardrobe. So I removed them."

"Please tell me you didn't throw them away." Crane leant on the door frame and held his head. "I don't need a new wardrobe, either."

"Suit yourself." Joker pointed at the other side of the room. Honestly he just wanted to watch Scarecrow freak out. He didn't really have the time to redress his pet - yet. "They're in that bag."

"Thank-you." Crane spoke without any sincerity, but he wasn't in the mood to start any fights. "How'd we get out of Arkham, or do I even want to know?"

"We walked out." Joker started in on his crackers again while Crane rummaged through the garbage bag for a matching outfit. "Well, there were a few casualties."

"To be expected considering you were involved." Crane rolled his eyes and stuffed his suit under his arm. Thankfully the hard cast on his leg made getting around a bit easier. It still hurt to walk on it, but it wasn't nearly as bad. "And thanks to Leland's little sleeping pills, I missed the whole thing. Wonderful."

Joker didn't bother to correct him and merely shook the box of crackers to get the last few crumbs. Highness was practically sulking now that the initial anger was gone. "What's with you? Shouldn't you be happy to be out?"

And he should, Crane reflected. But he wasn't. Arkham had his books and dinner. Arkham gave him a little time to rest in a familiar environment and have his leg heal in peace before he conned Leland into releasing him legally. But no, that wasn't how it was going to work now was it? "I'm ecstatic."

"Good." Joker nodded. "Because I'd hate to think you were ungrateful."

"Perish the thought." Crane added with a mock-bow. "I'm taking a shower and getting dressed. Don't bother me."

Joker laughed.

* * *

"How much money have I given Arkham to increase security, Alfred?"

"More than you want me to tell you."

"That's what I thought." Bruce rubbed his eyes watching the security footage over again for what felt like the hundredth time. Joker had walked out of prison carrying Jonathan wedding style. The guy had picked the lock on his cell with what looked like a button and stolen a key card to open all the doors. "How does he do that, Alfred?"

"I'm sure if you knew, he'd be put away for good by now."

"Yeah, if only." Bruce dropped onto his make-shift cot and away from the monitors. "I guess I'll just have to watch the streets even more closely now."

"That you will."

"Did we ever get the footage from that department store he raided?"

"No, sir."

"Back to the drawing board then."

"First sir, I think you should take a nap." Alfred walked over and threw a pillow over Bruce's head. "No arguments, now."

"Thanks, Alfred."

* * *

"What are you doing?" Crane asked as he watched Joker scurry around the apartment throwing random (or they looked random anyway...food peelers, clothes, a gag?) items into a sack.

"Stepping out for a bit, Highness. Nothing to worry yer' pretty little head about." Joker straightened up and snapped his fingers. Scarecrow was staring at him with an odd look on his face as he sat next to the make-shift lab they set up in the corner of the apartment. "Speaking, I almost forgot about 'ya."

"Uh." Crane's eyes widened a bit when the Joker picked up a pair of handcuffs and stalked towards him. "Oh, no. You are not handcuffing me to the bed again!"

"Of course not." Joker smiled and held them up. The metal clinked and Scarecrow twitched with every little metallic ring. "I'm going to be gone a bit longer than that and we don't need you soiling the new sheets."

"Put me down!" Crane shrieked as Joker closed in and flung him over a shoulder. They headed towards the back bedroom and Crane shook his head as they headed into the small bathroom. "Oh no, no no! You lummox! Release me!"

"Relax or I'm going to break your leg and give you something to really scream about."

Crane rolled his eyes and tried not to sigh while attempted to extricate himself from this mad man. "Could you at least come up with a different threat for once?"

"Um, rip out your eye ball and shove it down your throat so you can see your own yellow guts?"

Crane swallowed and stilled his struggles. "Much more creative."

"I thought so too." Joker snapped the handcuff around his Highness' wrist and to the water pipe running against the outside of the wall. There was little chance his Scarecrow could pull that off a wall. "There, now ya' got water and a place to go. And since you can go forty days without food, we're all set!"

"Joker, come back here!" Jonathan tugged at the pipe on the wall experimentally as the man started to leave. "You can't do this!"

"Already am! Sorry Highness but I've got places to go and people to see and I can't afford to let you run around on your own yet."

Crane watched the man yet again walk out of the room and shut the door. And if to drive the final nail into the coffin - he locked the door. Crane slid down the wall to sit and realized that there was a bisecting pipe just under the handcuff. His arm was too high up for him to sit and it was stuck there. For who knows how long. "JOKER!"

Final cry unanswered, Crane started the gears in his head whirling. Joker was going to pay for this if it was the last thing Scarecrow ever did!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go; a much meatier-fleshed out chapter for you all. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Also, the bit about Harley - totally inspired from 'Mad Love' XD
> 
> Edit; Fixed a typo. I don't do that often. XD

He didn't want to admit it, but Crane's arm was starting to smart something awful. His wrist was twisted at an odd angle and he was too tired to stand in such a way that it was strain-free. The skin around the metal was red and irritated and currently he was leaning against the wall best he could to remove as much weight off his arm as possible without standing fully. Crane rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead as he once again took note of his situation.

He was handcuffed to a water pipe that due to poor installation had a gas pipe running across it heading to who knows where.

Crane considered trying to pull the pipe from the wall. It wasn't that sturdy looking of a pipe and the wall was cracking already. He could probably take it down pretty easily if he tried or used a wedge of some sort. Though, even if he shut off the water, he might just end up getting stuck or break the gas pipe. Plus, there was always the consequences of opening up a water pipe should the shut-off valve fail (Which would be his luck...) and he didn't manage to get past problem two:

He was locked in and there was no window.

Again, theoretically Crane should be able to take out an old door. He used to work on a farm so he was hardly a weakling. Crane prided himself on staying in farm-boy shape even if he did prefer the sophisticated lifestyle. But there was always the chance he couldn't break the door down so then he'd be wet, miserable, and still locked in the bathroom with the added bonus of not having any running water. Well, assuming the water pipe also fed into the sink.

So instead, Crane decided to pass the time thinking up horrible things he could do to the Joker when they met again. His stomach growled and Crane hit his head on the wall. Assuming he could think of anything else than his gut yelling at him for food. Crane was going to shove Joker's own laughing gas down his throat and take pictures. Maybe his scars would split open from the laughter; Crane doubted it.

A day.

Jonathan Crane had been locked in a bathroom for a full day. He wanted to whine but there was no one to take pity on him. So he didn't. Maybe he could set the Joker on fire instead of just poisoning him. Crane was starting to get the suspicion his gas wouldn't work on this man. Not that he'd tested it; but Joker seemed like the type of guy to inhale the stuff for kicks. And since he wasn't on the ground dead or screaming, chances were it didn't work.

Maybe he could give the man a taste of his own medicine and take a knife to his face and reopen the scars. But that would leave a lot of blood and probably give him nightmares. Crane frowned and sighed to himself. The lack of food was starting to make him dizzy and think idiotic things. So, disfiguring the man more than he already was, wasn't an option. Neither was torture unless he could figure out a good method to restrain the fool.

He'd just have to think of something else than. The Scarecrow growled when he felt a small drop of blood come down his wrist. The handcuff had cut into his skin! Screw the water; this pipe was coming down!

* * *

Breaking back into Arkham was easier than getting out in the first place. Joker wasn't quite sure if that was convenient or pathetic, but he wasn't one to discount his blessings. He strolled down the hallway with a short happy whistle; completely undetected by the good folks around him. Wearing the white uniform of the staff and dressed with confidence, no one even questioned his presence. It was amazing how that worked. If you acted like you belonged, and looked like you belonged, no one questions you even when you **don't** belong.

Though, considering it was Arkham...most would probably say he did indeed belong there. The man snickered a bit as he headed to his first stop. Cracking the door to the small office open a bit, Joker double checked that no one was in the room before he slipped in and dropped the rose on the desk marked with 'J.' Joker wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with Ms. Harleen Quinzel; but she had 'stooge' written all over her face. Best to start setting the stage early for when he needed it.

Exiting and making sure to relock the door, the clown headed towards his intended destination. So much to do and so little time to do it in. After all, his Highness was only going to last for so long before doing something stupid. Joker made note to pick up a tray of food as he approached the padded door in the back and waited to be buzzed in by the relief guard half-falling asleep at the desk. Lunch time was the best place to sneak in; the guys who knew what they were doing had left and the idiot grabbed from the hall to watch the desk was left behind.

By the time he got to his new friend's cell, Joker was actually pretty bored. Hallway after hallway and he had half expected someone to say something. Anything about the guy who shouldn't be there bringing a tray of, Joker looked down, macaroni and cheese to the secure cells. Then again, his scars weren't that noticeable with his hair down around his cheeks. Though, things were looking up when he closed in on his target – that guard definitely noticed something off about the staff member bringing the random tray of food to the secure cells. At least some people knew how to pay attention in this place.

Joker grinned as he dropped the tray and pulled out a knife; two doors down was his target. He just hoped the coin flip was in his favor.

* * *

"Alfred," Bruce started as he stared at the screen monitoring the important locations in Gotham. The police station, court house, Arkham – they were all bugged so he was notified when their security systems went off. "Arkham's had a break out."

"Again?" The butler looked at the monitor. "Have they said who it was? I mean maybe someone was inspired by the break-out the other day from Joker and Scarecrow."

"No. They're not listing who got out." Bruce clenched his fist and hit the desk. His orange juice shook in the cup threatening to spill over the edge. "In fact, they're trying to cover up that anyone broke out at all."

"Oh dear." Alfred picked up the breakfast tray from the table and sighed. "That could only mean..."

"Exactly." Bruce growled. If these are the kinds of things that happened when he took a nap, than maybe Batman should just give up sleep. But that was unhealthy and Bruce needed sleep. "This is not good."

"On the bright side," Alfred paused, "At least some of the heat might drop from Batman's head if this news gets out."

"That's not a bright side Alfred."

"Just trying to think positively."

"Well," Bruce threw his hands up in the air. "At least things can't get any worse."

Alfred coughed into his hand and leaned over. "Sir, you do realize that every time someone utters those words, it does indeed get far worse than they ever imagined."

Bruce fought back the grin that threatened to split his face. "Why do you think I said it?"

"Since when did you start getting a taste for trouble?"

"Well, if Gotham's going to hell in a hand-basket, we might as well go all the way."

"If you say so."

Bruce nodded as Alfred left him alone with only the computer and his mask to keep him company. If who he thought had broken out of Arkham, than 'hell in a hand-basket' was probably an understatement. Bruce just hoped he didn't run into anyone else before Batman could get to him. The last thing he needed was _another_ bad influence.

* * *

Joker looked down at the ground and thought to himself: _damn._

His second thought was he probably should get His Highness off the floor and out of the water. Not out of compassion mind you, but just because he didn't want to hear the man cry about it later when he woke up and found Joker to be home. Rolling his eyes, he dumped his 'cargo' onto the bed and threw a blanket over the guy. After a moment he went ahead and took his new guest's shoes off; again: didn't want to hear Scarecrow whine about shoes on the bed. He then stepped over said unconscious Scarecrow and looked for the switch to turn off the water. For a smart guy, Scarecrow was kinda' dumb to have ripped a pipe off the wall without turning off the main – Joker frowned. Okay, so he had turned it off. Joker shrugged; he really couldn't blame Queenie for poor plumbing.

Though, he could blame him for most pathetic attempt at escape ever.

Seriously, the guy had broken free from the pipe, gotten the door off the hinge and then apparently slipped or something because his little Scarecrow was definitely out like a light on the floor in a position that looks like he whacked his head on the counter. Joker 'tsk'-ed and then rubbed the inside of his mouth with his tongue. Gone for a day and a half and look at the trouble he caused. Scarecrow definitely needed some supervision in his life. He considered leaving the man in his wet clothes as punishment; but the guy would be cranky enough when he woke up. Joker would just have to think of something more interesting to use as punishment.

Then again, it's not like he could call a plumber to come fix things so the fact Crane could no longer bathe would be punishment enough.

Joker snickered to himself as he pulled the man off the floor and into the middle of the bedroom and onto the now soggy carpet. They'd probably have to look for new hide-out once Crane and his new roommate came to. Ah well; a change of scenery might be good for them. Plus, Joker thought as he looked at the bed – three in a bed might be a tight squeeze. Not that Joker wouldn't mind snuggling, but he felt the other two might put up a fight about it.

Joker took a minute to shove Scarecrow into a new outfit, amazed that the guy was still out during all this movement (probably concussed or something...) and dropped him on the bed next to his other little pet. Looking down at the two of them, Joker rubbed his hair and hoped all this work was worth it. But more importantly, he hoped his new dog got along with his little pussy cat.

* * *

"Joker was involved?" Batman asked the commissioner from around a corner at the cold building of Arkham. He stayed to the shadows as to not attract the attention of the other officers on the scene. "Why wasn't that mentioned earlier?"

"We just only recently found out." Gordon sighed. "And even then it was only because they blew up the image on the security footage. He looked just like any other doctor in the building. Without the make-up, the scars are hardly noticeable unless you're looking for them."

"Well, he did sneak into a police rifle squad without getting noticed, so it would make sense he could pull this off as well." Batman held in the sigh. Batman didn't sigh in frustration. "Any leads as to what he'd want with-"

"Don't even say it." Gordon shook his head. "I feel as though we even say his name some fly on the wall will leak it out to everyone."

"We couldn't hide this forever, Commissioner." Batman sadly admitted. They were keeping a live man locked up in a basement. That was going to come out eventually. "We'll just have to work with what we've got."

"I know, I know." Gordon shook his head. "I just wish it had been anyone else to grab him."

"I'm sure he'll be fine."

"It's not him I'm worried about." Gordon turned back to the empty space behind him. Gordon continued his sentence anyway. "Heaven help us all if he decides to get revenge."

* * *

Crane woke with a start. The last thing he remembered was getting the door open and seeing his path to freedom. It had taken some effort, but Crane did manage to yank the pipe off the wall – sure he had been sprayed with water but that was the motivation Crane needed to figure out how to bust down the door. He had used the broken pipe to pull the hinges off the door, and then what? Whatever he was lying on didn't feel like a wet floor so he wasn't in the bathroom. Crane scrunched his face with a frown; he really needed to do something about this waking up in places he didn't remember putting himself thing! After another moment of self-scolding, Crane opened his eyes.

And shrieked like a school girl.

He hit the floor as he shoved himself off the bed to get away from the corpse in the bed with him. Normally a dead body wouldn't freak him out so, but this wasn't just a dead body – oh no. Not only had he woken up a single breath's away from the thing, his was a corpse that had it's face ripped off revealing the muscle underneath. It was like something straight out of a zombie picture only he could smell the dead, and burnt flesh. From the floor he tried to catch his breath, but Crane stilled when the thing moaned and sat up. "Dear Maria, you're alive."

"Unfortunately." Harvey ran a hand through what hair was left on the other side of his face and looked down curiously at the strange man on the ground who had woken him up. Someone shrieking in your ear wasn't exactly the best way to start your morning. It was bad enough Joker had broken into his cell and drugged him before he could even so much as speak. He looked around the room thoughtfully, yet with an air of apathy that was hard to fake, and sighed. Joker was no where to be found and now he was in a room with a jittery man in a leg cast. The only comfort he had was the coin he felt in his hand. "Where am I?"

"I wish I could tell you." Crane slowly made his way to standing and took a closer look at his talking corpse. He could only see the man from a profile, but the damage was absolutely horrific. He could even see the man's jaw bone through his cheek. "But I've been quite unconscious every time I've left or came."

"Joker took you too?" Harvey tilted his head slightly to take in the other man in spectacles. His clothes looked sloppy; like someone had just thrown them on him.

Crane didn't think it was possible to be any more shocked. The other half of that man's face was in more or less flawless condition. It was if the damage was split right down the middle. What were the odds of that? "In a manner of speaking. I'm not here by choice if that's what you mean."

"Close enough." Harvey sighed and put his feet over the edge of the bed. His feet squished on the carpet. "Why is the floor wet?"

Crane blinked for a moment and looked down. The carpet was wet; and he had been sitting in it. How had he not noticed that? Oh yes, he was distracted by the 'zombie.' "I broke a water pipe."

"Oh." Harvey rolled his eye. Yes, that made sense. Seems Joker had picked up another random inmate from Arkham while he was at it. Well, might as well find out his name. "So, who are you?"

"Dr. Jonathan Crane." He stood up slowly and tried to wipe some of the excess moisture off his pants. "And you are?"

"Two-face."

Crane frowned. "That's not a name and I'm not calling you that. It's bad enough I have to call that other lunatic by his 'criminal' name. I didn't introduce myself as 'Scarecrow' now did I? What's your name."

Harvey was almost surprised the man didn't recognize him now that he'd seen the other half of his face. Ah well, maybe the guy had lived under a rock since his whole little narrows escapade if this was indeed 'The Scarecrow.' "Harvey Dent."

"Don't patronize me." The response was almost instant. "Harvey Dent is dead. And while I will admit the likeness on at least half of your face is uncanny, who are you really?"

"Believe what you want." Harvey stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, where's our gracious host?"

Crane paused and took off his glasses to wipe some of the dust off with his damp shirt. "He's probably listening to us from the other side of the door."

"How do you figure that?"

"Because he wouldn't leave the apartment unless we were 'secured' in some fashion and embarrassing as it was, I'm betting even the neighbors heard me scream just now. So he's obvious around and probably giggling about the whole thing."

The door creaked open at this point and a (very) giggling head popped in. "You see Harvey? This is why I keep His Highness around." Joker came all the way into the room and shut it behind him. He approached the other two much like a lion tamer approaches a new acquisition to the team. "Well, it seems you two have already introduced yourselves, so that's good."

"Harvey?" Crane whipped his head over to the disfigured man. "You really are Harvey Dent? The White Knight? Gotham's DA that was killed by the Bat Man? That Harvey Dent?"

"Aside from the killed by Batman thing, yeah, that Harvey Dent. You got a problem with that?"

"Yes I have a problem with that!" Crane threw his arms up! "You're supposed to be dead!" Since he was upset anyway, Crane also asked something that had been bugging him since he woke up to a corpse. "And what the hell happened to your face? Lose a fight with a lighter?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Harvey turned around with a snarl. "It's his fault."

"Hey now, I thought we put that little incident behind us!" Joker shrugged. "Anyway, past is past. Harvey's a new man now – and he's going to help us with our little escapades."

"I refuse." Harvey took the coin out of his pocket and started to flip it absently. It just felt right. "I'm not working with scum like you."

"Oh, but you," Joker licked his lips, "are." Joker walked over to his crispy little friend, keeping eye on the skittish Scarecrow in the corner as well. He put an arm around Harvey's shoulder and put his mouth close to the good ear. "And you want to know why?" Joker didn't wait for an answer. "The three of us? We're comrades in arms! The costumed freaks of Gotham. A secret club, if you will. And we're going to work together as a team for a bit." Harvey attempted to interject and Joker grabbed his jaw, gloved finger going right through the gaping hole in his cheek. "Got it?"

In the corner, Crane had his hand over his mouth and was fighting the urge to vomit as Harvey nearly screamed from the pain. That was much worse than Joker breaking a leg with a pipe. Swallowing the bile down Scarecrow tried to act undisturbed by Joker with his finger through someone's cheek.

"Oops," Joker laughed. "I'm makin' his Highness squeamish."

Crane frowned. What? Could he read minds now too? "I'm fine."

"Sure ya' are." Joker laughed and pat Harvey on the back. Clapping his hands together Joker nodded. "Now, why don't I go make us some breakfast. I'm hungry!"

As Joker skipped out of the damp room, Harvey and Crane could only look at each other. It was going to be a very long day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its' way too easy to pick on these people. And I'm straying from my genre….ah well. I'll think of some way to make this funny again…Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Batman knew a few things while he was patrolling the city from the rooftops. Harvey Dent had yet to make an appearance since his escape (though, looking at the footage Gordon had slipped him, Batman was tempted to change that from 'escape' to 'kidnap') from Arkham and that there had been very little criminal activity outside of the average crook and lowlife. It was rather frustrating, all things considered.

"All's quiet." Batman muttered into the air.

"Good to hear, I think." Lucius chuckled from his end. "At least this new two-way radio appears to be working."

"Like a dream." Bruce continued as he went on his way. Batman needed a better way to avoid the police while he was out looking for Joker, the Scarecrow and Harvey. Thankfully, Lucius had come to his rescue with a two-way radio that picked up police broadcasts without letting them know he was listening.

Plus, it worked as a great way to stay in touch with Alfred and Lucius back at the home and base. But, as with all things, it was back to business.

"How go things with the antidote for Crane's laughing gas?"

"Slowly." Lucius sighed as he looked over the beaker. "That man really created a monster with this one. It's far too fast acting to really make use of an antidote in time. And creating a vaccine that doesn't affect the victim is proving to be more difficult than everyone thought."

"Why do all these super villains have to be genius, Lucius?" Bruce sighed into the night and jumped to the next roof via a fire escape.

"I don't know." Lucius tapped a beaker. "But when you find out tell me so I can figure out how to stop that. Much more productive use of my time."

"Amen to that, my friend."

* * *

He told himself he didn't really care. He did. He shouldn't care by any account about how the other two lunatics interacted with each other. Heck, he even flipped the coin to see if he cared (it said no). Harvey should just sit and mind his own business until the opportunity to run came. But, after two days trapped in an apartment with the jittery 'Dr. Crane' and Joker, Harvey just had to ask. "Why does he keep calling you 'Your Highness' and 'Queenie?'"

"That's because Scarecrow over there is the Queen of England." Joker said nonchalantly, before the Scarecrow could answer, from his place on the couch in front of the TV. His Highness rolled his eyes and shoved his head into his arms on the kitchen table he and Harvey were currently sharing.

"What?" Harvey's face was contorted in confusion and looked over to Crane for clarification. "The Queen of England?"

"I made a bad joke when we met and he's never going to let me live it down" Crane mumbled and waved his hand back and forth. 'Lying low' as it was called, was boring. And after his little attempt to escape, Joker wasn't letting him near his chemicals until 'such a time that his good behavior deemed him worthy to have them.' "I blame the blood loss." Harvey opened his mouth to speak. "Don't ask."

Joker snickered and turned himself on the couch to face his two grumpy friends. "Well, if I'd known Queenie's little nickname is what got you to start talking to us again, Harvey, I would have called him that the whole time instead of shakin' it up with his real name."

"You have never once called me by my name." Crane spat. Not that he _wanted_ Joker to call him by name, but that wasn't the point.

"Sure I have, Scarecrow." Joker licked his lips. "See? Did it right there."

Crane rolled his eyes, again, and sat up again against the back of his chair. "Forget it."

"You are good though at keeping quiet over there, Harvey, I figured a lawyer would wanna' talk to someone." Joker nodded. "I'm kinda' surprised ya' haven't been talkin' with good old Scarecrow over there. You both used to work in the same building and all. Ya' both worked with criminals and have all sorts of things in common. Now, I guess I can forgive ya' for not wanting to talk to me just yet with that whole Rachel thing even though you should totally be over her by now."

"Don't say her name." Harvey snarled low. Before he knew it, he was flipping the coin in his hand and catching it. Perfect; he was developing a nervous twitch. "Ever."

"Rachel?" Crane looked over at Harvey. That name was ringing a horrible bell. And chances were high that Joker was referring to someone they had both worked with considering the past conversation. "As in Rachel Dawes?"

"Yup!" Joker giggled and almost covered his mouth. He had totally _not_ forgotten that good old Scarecrow had a past with that little red-head. He was wondering if the name-drop would go properly noticed. "Harvey's pretty little thing. They were going to get married, you know."

"Joker-"

"You were going to marry her?"

Harvey turned to the man who had cut him off, and was currently looking at him with a horrified expression. Almost like he was disgusted, but Harvey chose to call the emotion 'pity' before he broke the man's face. "Yes, until _he_ killed her."

Crane tilted his head. "I heard about him killing her." And it had pissed him off, too. Crane had wanted to do it! "But, dating? Really? What on earth did you see in her?"

"She was wonderful." Harvey nearly hissed. "What would you know about it?"

"I know she was a spoiled pest who couldn't mind her own business." Crane snorted thinking back to all the times she interfered at the office and tried to mess up his research and plans. Crane felt his temper rising to the point where he didn't notice Harvey's rising. Hell! She even was responsible for bringing the Bat down onto him. It was all her fault. Oh, how Crane hated that little bitch… "And she was an idiot, too. It was way too easy to poison her-"

This time it was Scarecrow who was cut off by Harvey jumping over the table and wrapping his hands around the slighter man's throat. Joker thought it was amusing at first, but then he realized his highness wasn't doing a very good job of defending himself. Joker almost sighed. "Uh, Harvey? I think his highness is turnin' blue."

"Good." Harvey snarled and felt the muscles spasm under his fingers trying to draw in air. How dare he say those things about Rachel? Crane was scratching at his arms to get Harvey's hands off. Harvey squeezed tighter until the man couldn't even gasp any longer. Crane didn't know anything about Rachel!

"I think ya' need to let go."

Harvey loosened his grip when he heard the click of a gun being loaded. He turned to see the Joker looking rather, serious, with the aforementioned weapon pointed at him. He slowly backed off of Crane (who was now on the floor). Crane immediately started to sputter as he took in oxygen but otherwise stayed where he was.

"Now, I know yer' a little mad about what Scarecrow here said." Joker nodded in approval when Harvey got off the other man. "But you gotta' look at it from his point of view, too. After all, Rachel did mess up his plans and tasered him in the face. I think he's allowed to have a little hate for your girlfriend."

"How do you know about that?" Crane questioned with his face turning red. No one was supposed to know about that night in the narrows! It was the most humiliating moment of his life: mad, in a straight-jacket on horseback, at the top of his game and he gets taken down by a women he failed to kill who had a taser of all things!

"I have my ways, now hush daddy's talking." Joker waved his finger at the gaping Scarecrow. "Now, I think it's time we laid down some, ground rules."

* * *

She hadn't reported the flower. Harley paced back and forth in her office with the dried rose in her hand, tag still on it. The young intern had yet to figure out why she hadn't reported it – all that mattered was she hadn't. It was obvious who it was from; it was impossible to think it was a Joke. Harley almost laughed. Joke. Joker. Heh, it was funny.

If not creepy.

For some reason, during his last break-in (she still had trouble believing that one) the Joker had stopped by her office to leave her a flower. Now why would he do that? Harley was wracking her brains. The two of them had never spoken really, just passed each other once or twice in the halls. Maybe he heard about her from Crane, Harley figured. Those two were always sitting together in the commons room and cafeteria it wasn't unheard of for patients to talk about their psychiatrists.

Not that Crane would have anything _good_ to say about her. The mutual hatred between them had hardly been conductive to the sessions, but there wasn't much to be done about it. Did the Joker hear about how Crane treated her and feel sorry for her? Harley shook her head hard and slammed the rose on the desk. No, more than likely he was trying to mess with her. Crane probably put the man up to it.

Well, they'd just see who got the last laugh from this one! Harley was going to make it her top priority to get the Joker for her next patient once Batman brought those two losers back in. Now, while it was a guarantee that they'd both be back at Arkham, the real question is how long that would take. Harley hoped it would be sooner than later. And once she got her hands on him, she was going to pick Joker apart and write the best paper her peers had ever seen!

"Psychiatrist Monthly here I come!"

* * *

"You two don't seem too happy about the, uh, rules." Joker spoke with his hands behind his back as he stood before the other two sitting on the couch.

"How'd you figure that out, Sherlock?" Crane muttered and started to chew on the edge of his thumb. This whole thing was ridiculous. 'Play nice?' 'No trying to kill each other?' 'All members of the family will sit down and eat dinner together?' 'Weapons will be confiscated upon use on a comrade unless it's the Joker who does it?' What type of messed up rules were these? "We're not children."

"Ya' sure weren't acting like it a minute ago."

"We were not."

"See? You did it right there." Joker pointed. Harvey remained silent as ever and just kept flipping the coin. It kept landing on heads and you could see the twitch grow with every flip. At least someone was on the Joker's side. "Now, it's not all bad."

"How so?"

"I figured out a good way to get some team building." Joker held out his hands in a placating sort of fashion. "We're going to take turns coming up with schemes to make Gotham a better place." He paused at the confused look. "For us, I mean."

Crane lifted an eyebrow. "And how will be do that? We're out of laughing gas, my toxin, whatever 'Two-Face' over here uses and of course, we have no money."

Joker contemplated for a moment before nodding. "Those are very good points. No wonder you rule a country!" Scarecrow nearly smacked his head with his hand, but obviously caught himself. Drat. "And because of that – You! Your Highness, are now responsible for creating a plan to get us some green."

"Are you jok-" Crane stopped himself. "Kidding? We both know how well my last few plans to make money have worked." As much as he _loathed_ to admit, despite all his great intelligence – Crane was a bit lacking in the regular crime racket. His drug trading didn't work too well because he couldn't pass up the opportunity to study the addicts reactions and well, they all knew how well that robbing the bank thing went. "Why do you take the first one?"

"Because I've already set up an outing. It's your turn." Joker nodded. "You have a few days though, so I'm sure you'll think of something."

"How generous."

"I thought so."

"Whatever happened to that non-lethal laughing gas plan?"

"Oh, you're still making that, too."

"Don't be absurd! I can't do both of those at once."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit…"

Harvey sighed and slunk into his chair as he tuned the other two out. His face hurt, his back hurt, and he could see the bruising around Crane's neck; still feel it under his fingers. Harvey didn't want to admit just how good it had felt. Or how much he still wanted to do it every time the man spoke. Harvey turned his head to look out the window as Crane and Joker continued to bicker. It was a nice day outside for once.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 1 of Batman The Animated Series, episode "Fear of Victory" – inspiration? Yes. Oh yes. Oh how I love the animated scarecrow. He is love. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

"I am a genius." Crane smiled as he held up the brown envelope and tapped it on the table top. "This, gentlemen, is how we are going to make some money."

The Joker reached for the envelope and glared when his highness held it out of reach. Harvey sat to the side and applied Saline solution to his exposed eye. (A suggestion by Scarecrow even!) At least one of them seemed to be getting with the program, but then again – Scarecrow just liked to show off. "Well, what is it?"

"Put it in the mail and you'll see." Crane smirked and tapped the edge of the envelope against his lip. This had to be his best creation yet. Crane couldn't wait to see it in action. And armed with a vile of his genius in his pocket, he was all set for even a bat attack. "Though, first we'll be needing a disguise of some sort and a wad of base cash."

"You do realize you still haven't explained anything, uh, right?" Joker licked his lips and tapped the table. "What's with the letter? Are you sending out letters asking for donations?"

Crane paused as if he was considering that option, and Harvey almost snorted. Whatever the doctor made, it was something in a powder form that he spread over the letter. What it did, Harvey didn't know but Joker should have at least known that much from paying attention. It obviously wasn't a nice present. Harvey looked at his coin and rubbed it in his hand. The dirtied side was starting to get rubbed clean.

"We're going to get money by gambling." Crane smiled and waved a free arm. "It's a less than savory method of gaining cash, but it is one of the fastest if we say win a sure-fire-losing bet. And this little joy is our ticket to winning."

Joker tilted his head. "And that is?"

"Fear powder." Crane was almost giddy. He'd never had a reason to use this one before! "It's absorbed through the skin upon contact – in other words opening the letter, and reacts to adrenaline. The victim will be perfectly normal until they engage in a physical activity. So, we drug the guy sure to win, bet on the under dog and when the fool freaks out on the field the team will lose and we'll rake in the money. It's simple."

"That would be really nifty, your highness," Joker paused and rubbed his lips together. "If you knew it worked. I haven't uh, seen ya' testing it on anything."

"It works."

"And how do you know that?" Harvey spoke up for once.

"Because unlike the Joker's laughing gas that required repeated trials and experimentation due to creating a brand new substance from scratch," Crane began, "This is my own personal fear toxin that I know inside and out. I had already experimented with powder and delayed reaction forms of it in my research days. The gas just proved most efficient and timely, but I assure you, this little beauty will work. I'd stake my life on it."

Joker smirked. "Since we're bettin' and all, you wanna' make that official for kicks?" The clown looked towards Harvey. "What'dya say if that there gas doesn't work, Scarecrow here has to dress like a real queen for a week? Dress n' all?"

Harvey stared. He was fairly certain Crane had staked his life, not his pride. Harvey doubted the man would risk his pride on anything. "You're not going to kill him?"

"Trust me," Joker snickered as Scarecrow glared at the both of them. "Wearin' that dress'll kill him way more than if I shot him in the head." Joker finished his sentence by using his hand to mimic the gun firing the bullet. "What'dya say, Highness?"

Crane slammed the letter on the table. "As long as we're betting on whether or not my formula works and NOT the success of this plan, than I shall absolutely take this bet." He smirked. "It's not even a risk."

"Awesome!" Joker rubbed his hands together. He already had the prefect dress in mind to parade their little scarecrow around in. "Than let's got deliver that letter to some poor sap and bet against him."

"Hey wait," Harvey paused and rubbed the clean side of the coin with his thumb. He was still pissed off at Crane for saying those things about Rachel, but to be blunt Harvey hated the Joker more. So, he felt obligated to point out the great injustice in this bet. "What's Crane get if he wins?"

Joker pursed his lips for a moment. "What now?"

"What does Crane get if he wins?" Harvey flipped the coin with a small smile. It he couldn't leave, he might as well get under the Joker's skin. "It's hardly fair if you're the only one who gets anything out of the bet."

Crane blinked; Harvey had a point. A really good one, actually that dear Scarecrow should take advantage of. "If I win-"

"Ya' can't ask to leave." Joker flicked out a knife. "Just so ya' know."

Crane scowled. There went that option. "We change apartments and _I_ get to choose."

Harvey rolled his eyes and Joker giggled. They both should have realized he'd ask for something like that. Scarecrow had been forced to wash his hair in the sink for the past week and he was about to go stir-crazy. They were lucky he had his chemical set to play with as a distraction or none of them would have had any peace from his ranting.

"Than it's settled." Joker held out his hand. "Shake on it?"

"Gladly." Crane smiled. Easiest bet he'd ever won. "Now, where can I get my hands on an apartment guide?"

Harvey shook his head and went back to applying saline to his worn and dried eye. Things were going to be interesting if Crane lost that bet.

* * *

Alfred was a sensible man. He had one or two hobbies to himself and took pride in his work. Even if he did go from secret service to butler, he was happy. And he very rarely went out to make sport with his few friends. In fact, the only time he could ever recall gambling was when the bet was sure and loss low. That's what made it so fun; Alfred always won and had a good time with his one or two friends.

His team had lost.

It was a total defeat due to the star quarter-back having a nervous breakdown in the middle of the field. The man had literally gone down shrieking when the other team starting to rush towards him. It took two paramedics and two team mates to calm him down enough to get him in the ambulance. He was reported to be in perfect health later that evening, but still could not return to the game.

The result was the underdog team slaughtering the guaranteed winners. It was claimed that only twenty to thirty people had bet on the losing team. All of them booked over two million a piece due to the mass bets on the guaranteed win.

"You're not still fuming about that football game are you, Alfred?" Bruce chuckled.

"Grown, professional football players do not have breakdowns in the middle of a game!" Alfred waved his hands. "It just does not happen."

Bruce nodded and sipped his tea. While he didn't see the game in person like Alfred had, it was all over the news. "Maybe he just had a breakdown? They said he was fine later."

"No, Master Wayne." Alfred shook his head. "Something happened during that game and I'm going to be watching for a repeat."

"Well, fill me in if you figure something out."

* * *

Harvey Two-Face was starting to regret encouraging Crane to pick out a prize for winning the bet. Joker probably would be glowering too, but the clown had won in his own way too considering he forced Crane into picking a two-bedroom flat. Scarecrow was required to room with the Joker or some creative threat Harvey chose not to remember. The new apartment was twice the size of the old one, new and in a relatively out of the way building. Crane had used the fake ID and disguise for placing the bets to purchase the room. As long as they kept their cover, no one even questioned the three of them when they moved into the furnished apartment.

All in all, it wouldn't be too bad. Well, if not for the smug look of satisfaction on Crane's face.

Currently, said genius was lounging on the white leather couch in the middle of the room spread before the fake-marble fireplace. He had made sure to get a place with the television restricted to the bedroom so he could have peace and quiet. Crane sipped at the glass of brandy he had ordered from the lobby and relaxed to the smell of fresh shampoo from the apartment's built in store.

It was good to be a genius.

Joker still couldn't believe that stuff had worked. Now really, what were the chances the stuff a guy threw together in maybe two days that was never tested would work on the first try and make them a couple mill? It was ridiculous. Ah well, he did admit the new digs were…well. No he wouldn't admit they were nice. The place was spotless, clean and well, not a scratched piece of wall paper anywhere. The place felt…sterile.

"Okay, I'm bored." Joker hummed as he walked into the middle of the room. "While it's nice that Scarecrow here made us a lot of money and gave us a new toy, we haven't done much."

Crane shrugged. "Tell that to Two-Face. It's his turn to pick the 'group activity' as it is."

"Right you are, Scarecrow my boy!" Joker spun around in his purple coat towards the serving bar attached to the kitchen. His pet project Harvey was attempting to eat a sandwich. "So, what do you say Harvey? Do you want to terrorize something? Rob a bank? Blow something up? Rough up some mobsters? Take a date? The possibilities are uh, quite endless."

"It's not going to happen." Harvey glared and leant back on the counter.

"Are you sure?" Joker walked around the corner and stole the man's sandwich. "Because, it'll be fun. And you get to pick the activity."

"No."

"How about this," Joker took Harvey's chin and turned his face towards the Queen. "See him? He's with the program because he's already had his leg broken. It only took one warning. Now, let's try this again. What would you like to suggest?"

"I'm not helping." Harvey grit through his teeth.

Joker rolled his eyes. "Okay, you're conflicted. I get that." He nodded Harvey's head for him. "I get that. I do. So here's what we're gonna' do."

Harvey growled when Joker picked up his coin and held it in front of his face. "You are going to flip this coin. Heads," He showed off the clean side in Harvey's good eyes. "And we'll skip your turn and I'll pick. Tails?" The coin was flipped to the smudged side. "And you decide on what we're going to do. Got it?"

"A fifty-fifty chance." Harvey glared. Scarecrow had taken to reading a book, so it was unlikely he'd help. Well, Harvey would just have to leave things up to chance. That was fair.

Harvey took the coin back from him and flipped. Joker grinned; that was much more like it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reasons Scarecrow Rocks: In his first appearance in the animated series, he both knew and used the names of his henchmen. That's just awesome.
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing!

For a man as cursed as Harvey Dent, he had some damn good luck. Crane leant on his walking stick (that Joker had somehow recovered from their last encounter with the Bat Man) while they stood in the men's department store back storage room and office. Harvey had won the little coin toss so it fell upon the Joker to chose their next activity. The clown thought it would only be right to choose something Harvey-related since it was supposed to be his turn in the first place. Said event was apparently picking out a new outfit for the man.

Not that Crane blamed him; Harvey looked horrible in Joker's extra clothes. It was a shame he was too tall to fit into his own clothes. Having one man dressed in purple was bad enough.

"How do you put up with this?"

Crane lifted an eyebrow from under his mask as Harvey looked at him with the standard 'I'm pissed off and bored but probably not hating my captivity as much as I'm trying to portray' look. Crane sighed; he needed to stop psychoanalyzing people when he saw them. Besides, that was a good question. Especially since Joker had Harvey try on two separate suits - and was now threatening the tailor to cut them both in half and sew them together. Joker apparently thought it would be better if Harvey's suit matched his face. "He's actually being pretty good right now."

"This, is behaved for him?" Harvey pointed to the man as he scared the poor tailor to the point of almost tears. It was a miracle the guy's hands were steady enough to use the sewing machine. "Then how do you deal with it when he's out of control?"

"Self-discipline."

"No escape plans then."

"Tried it." Crane pat the cast on his leg. "You can see how far it got me, but I'm fairly certain Joker had pointed that out before."

"He did, but you never know when he's lying. For all I know you fell down the stairs." Harvey flipped his coin and looked through the small door window into the main part of the shop. Crane was glaring at him, but he ignored it. The store closed sign in the front had been flipped to 'closed' and Joker had taken their 'operation' to the back. It was unlikely they'd be disturbed any time soon, so bothering Crane with idle talk would have to make due. "It's a shame making a run for it wouldn't do us much good."

"Don't remind me." Crane muttered. Even if he did 'make a run for it' as it were, he wouldn't get very far. Joker would notice and chase him down. Crane was crippled and still in the same situation he was when he was first dragged to the apartment. Harvey could probably get away, but where would he go? He was a highly recognizable figure who was suffering from severe, barely treated, burn wounds. Crane lifted any eyebrow. "Just curious, but did they not try and offer skin grafts and the like when you were at Arkham? I mean, it's all scabbed over but half of your face is still basically skinless."

"What?" Harvey paused flipping his coin. That was an odd question. Maybe Crane was just as bored as he was. "I refused treatment."

Crane snorted. "As what? Some sort of penance?"

"You could say that." Harvey started to flip his coin again. He could feel Crane staring at him under the mask and it made his skin crawl slightly. His blue eyes were judging him; calling him a fool or maybe even pitying him. It made him want to wrap his fingers around the man's throat again. Harvey clenched his hand around the coin and squeezed. Strangling Crane was **not** a way to make up for all the wrong he'd done after breaking free from the hospital.

Crane shrugged and looked over to the side of the table once again ignorant of Harvey's inner temper raging. There were sets of clothes that had yet to make it to the front of the store laid out here and there in stacks. Mostly ties, dress shirts, a miss-tagged pair of pants, and- "Oh."

"What?"

"I like these." Crane picked up a pair of cufflinks that were just under the stack of (what he now assumed were) unsorted returns.

Harvey shook his head as the man started to undo his sleeve cuffs to put them on. Psychopaths did some odd things. At least the oddity distracted him enough from the slightly building rage. "Gold apple cufflinks? That doesn't strike me as something you'd wear."

"Than you'd be wrong, now wouldn't you." Crane snapped the second one tightly into the cuff and admired them for a moment. They were just the right size and he liked them. There was even a little emerald stone for the leaf. Harvey was now staring at him like he was nuts. How dare he? "I used to be a college professor, alright? I can't appreciate a little nostalgia of my teaching days?"

"Wouldn't have been my first guess." Harvey just pictured Crane in front of a room full of students. That was even more frightening than realizing the man used to have a position of power in the insane asylum. "Whatever makes you happy."

Crane crossed his arms and tried to tune out the Joker singing to the tailor while he worked on Harvey's new suit. "I think I liked you better when you sat in the corner and sulked."

"And why would I care? I don't believe I ever liked you to begin with."

Crane didn't bother to answer and wondered when the hell they could leave and go back to the apartment. Now that they weren't in some rotting cesspool of germs he had no problem with lying low in peace and quiet while his leg healed. Maybe they could rob a bookstore or something. That could be-

"Okay ladies." Joker interrupted Scarecrow's thoughts (he could tell by the way his highness jumped) and slapped a hand on Harvey's shoulder. "Enough chit chatting like hens over here, Joey over there finished Harvey's suit and it's time for him to try it on."

"Joy." Harvey muttered as Joker dragged him across the room.

"Oh, Highness? Since I'm gonna' help Harvey here change into his new digs, Joey'll be helping you pick out a suit or two that matches your um, sack." Joker threw the still shaking store clerk over towards highness. "Have fun! And might I recommend a good over coat?" Joker pulled at his own purple coat as an example. "I think it'd look good on ya.'"

"I'll think about it." Crane sighed and looked down at the other man. His name tag clearly read 'Jason' and the Scarecrow sighed. Why was the only name Joker remembers is 'Harvey'? Names were important! Even if you were talking to someone beneath you, one should at least have the curtosy to use their proper name. "What sort of wool suits do you carry here, Jason?"

* * *

"Any luck with your gambling fixer, Alfred?"

"Any luck finding Harvey Dent, Master Wayne?"

 _Ouch._ Bruce winced and pulled on the gloves to his costume. He hadn't meant to hit a nerve with Alfred. But apparently since that first football game, a horse race Alfred had bet on had also lost. His horse that was sure for the win freaked out in the middle of the race. Again, a few lucky souls had banked close to four hundred grand. Alfred was down fifty dollars and steaming. He was so sure that the two events were related. "Well, I'll keep an eye on the books for you while I'm looking."

"Be sure that you do." Alfred clipped and sighed as he started dusting the computer. He really shouldn't be so hard on Bruce, but he really was angry about this gambling thing. Whenever he figured out who was messing with the already corrupt system of gambling he'd give them a one-two on his own! "Take care."

"I always do, Alfred." Bruce smiled and started up the tumbler. Though he probably wouldn't have much time for Alfred's gambling criminal. Harvey Dent, Jonathan Crane and the Joker were all running loose in Gotham right now and chances were good that at least two of them were working together. Worst case, Crane was still with Joker which would put all three of them in cahoots. It just wasn't fair, really.

Batman needed a partner or something. Running after more than one villain was starting to run his nerves ragged. Bruce really hoped he stumbled upon a low level robbery. Beating the crap out of a few low lives might just lift his mood.

* * *

"Well, Scarecrow? What do ya' think of good old Two-Face now?"

 _He looks good._ Crane nearly slapped himself for that being his first thought. But damn, for a guy with half his face burnt off, in the custom suit he looked rather striking and intimidating. With Harvey's broad shoulders and physique, the slimming suit did wonders for his figure. Crane almost began to feel self conscious about his own, rather scrawny figure and crossed his arms. Harvey was currently flipping his coin while trying to look like he didn't care he was there or wearing a black and white suit. Crane could almost see Harvey setting a new fashion trend with the split down the middle look. Hell, he even sewed two ties together. "Very nice."

"Isn't it?" Joker smirked and straightened his own purple coat. He picked up the discarded mask on the table (couldn't blame the guy for taking it off; three hours wearing that thing must get hot or something...) and stuck his hand in it much like a puppet. "Just because we're the scum of society doesn't mean we shouldn't look good."

Scarecrow sadly agreed as he straightened out the collar of his new black wool coat and ran his fingers through his now greasy hair. The coat fell all the way down to his ankles and the sleeves hid his new cufflinks. The last thing he needed was Joker picking on them, too. Jason was now curled up in a corner trying to pretend he didn't exist. It was still up in the air of whether or not Joker was going to kill the poor man or not. "So, are we ready to go?"

"Yup." Joker flattened his hair back and looked in the mirror to check himself out. Custom clothes were definitely the way to go. Nothing made a statement more than 'Ha! I've got something you don't have!' "Now, what am I forgetting?"

"Your mind?" Harvey added in from across the room. He saw Crane try and hide a smile behind his hand and smirked himself.

"Ha ha," Joker turned around. "So Dent can pull a joke or two. But ya, need a little work on your delivery. And no, that's not quite it." Joker hummed for a moment until he saw a tiny movement in the dressing mirror. "That's it! Joey my man."

Crane almost felt bad for the poor soul when he whimpered and tried to force himself up against the wall. Ah well, whatever Joker was going to do, it was doubtful Crane could stop it. So, to avoid the splatter, Scarecrow picked up the small packet of ties and clips he had picked out while waiting and walked over to the other side of the room to stand with Harvey.

"Joey, you did a mighty good job under the pressure and I gotta' say the end result looks _fan_ tastic." Joker knelt down in front of the cowering man and pat him on the shoulder while licking his lips. Holding the guy's shoulder was like feeling an earthquake beneath your hand. Joker giggled. "And just so you know that I'm not, uh, ungrateful here's a little something for yer' trouble."

Crane's eyes almost doubled when Joker shoved a hundred into Joey's hands and stood up. without so much as a death threat or cut with a knife. Jason was close to hyperventilating and clutching the money like a lifeline as Joker brushed himself off. Apparently Harvey was surprised at the generosity and well, mercy, the Joker was distributing. It seems they'd never quite figure that man out.

"Let's go boys!" Joker stood up and skipped across the room. "Part two of Mine-But-Should-Have-Been-Harvey's plan is to show off our new duds across town."

"Can we just rob a bookstore and go home?" Crane figured it couldn't hurt to ask. Worst Joker could say is 'no.' "I'm tired."

"Ya' didn't do nothing but stand there. How are you tired?"

"Boredom induced exhaustion." Crane paused. "And my leg is sore."

"You always use the leg as an excuse don't ya?"

"I wouldn't have to if you hadn't broken it."

"We gotta' do something about all of your arguments being backed up by this one point, highness."

"Well if you hadn't broken it I wouldn't always have to come ba-"

"Why a bookstore?" Harvey interrupted. He didn't exactly want to socialize with the two of them, but he'd have to blow his brains out with or without the coin's permission if he had to listen to them bicker for one more minute. And it was always the same damn argument over and over again.

"To get a few books to read, what else?" Crane rolled his eyes. Honestly; wasn't Harvey Dent supposed to be Gotham's DA? How could he possibly have these dense moments? "Television is overrated."

"Take that back." Joker hummed as he walked backwards. This was fun; it was. Stooges and henchmen were fun, but they weren't nearly as much fun as his new buddies. They were psycho enough to hang around, but smart enough to hold interesting conversations. But still beneath him that he could control what they did and keep um' from running. They were perfect! "Television is how I show off my good side."

"You even have one?" Crane shoved his hands into his pockets and fingered the burlap sack. He wasn't in the mood to put the thing back on. "I never would have guessed."

"Oop, it is a rare night. Even Scarecrow's cracking jokes!" Joker laughed and spun back around behind the other two so he could put his arms around both of their shoulders and pull them in tight for a hug. "And since I'm in such a good mood, why don't we go ahead and hit a bookstore and then go set something on fire in honor of Harvey's face? Plan? Good!"

Both Crane and Harvey grunted when Joker released them suddenly by pushing off of them to skip back to the front. Harvey almost laughed when Crane fell over onto his bum after losing his balance. He restrained himself. Joker was already skipping ahead and the doctor was trying to pull himself up using the walking stick. Harvey probably could have helped; but he also was still entertaining the idea of strangling him for kicks at this point. He didn't even have a reason anymore. It was strange what a week in the company of the Joker could do to someone's psych.

"I really hate him."

Harvey agreed for once.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We're getting to a little bit of real plot. Set your bets people and pick a side! We're about to have a grand old time. :D
> 
> And to Computerfreak101, leave me alone. I love Robin (Tim Drake!). He won't show up, but I still love that boy wonder.
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone! And Thank Lauralot for the steady updates. Her daily updates make me feel self conscious. :D My other fics are crying...

"You know, I never thought I'd meet anyone who had worse luck than me."

"Harvey, it's not Scarecrow's fault that Batman showed up when we were robbing his bookstore. Stop picking on your brother."

"We're not related."

"Details."

"Well, does anyone have any plans? I don't particularly like either of you two, but going with Batman doesn't exactly seem like the best option, either."

"You hurt us, Harvey. Ya' do."

"Stop avoiding the subject."

"You really need to relax sometime, Harvey. You're far too stressed."

Crane rolled his eyes as the three of them stood behind the tall bookshelf. The tumbler was right outside and Batman was shining a flashlight on the broken glass of the door. They could have picked the lock, but no – Joker was in a flashy mood. In fact, it was a miracle that Joker hadn't jumped out to say 'hello' yet. Crane figured he was just planning something. Was it so much to ask that they break in, grab a few books and leave? He was only thankful that the shelf was packed with enough books to hide them from the street.

"In any case, he's almost in the building so we should probably do something." Harvey muttered and started to lower his voice even further. The noise of the streets would only cover up so much. He had even less a desire to go back to that cell in Arkham than he did going back to the apartment. He didn't realize how much he missed being out until he was well, out. "Or do you all _want_ to go back to that cell?"

"Does that man have nothing better to do? He's probably not even looking for us and just after some burglar." Crane hissed under his breath. "We should just leave now while we can. I do not want to go back to Arkham again. We were just there!"

"Don't be silly your highness. He's here, we're here. It'd be rude not to say hello." Joker licked his lips. The best things happened when he was out with his _friends_. He bet they hated him so much. Though he really didn't see what the big deal was. They acted like it was _hard_ to get out of Arkham. Go figure. "So, let's rearrange our thoughts shall we?"

 _My plan exactly._ Crane hummed and tried to think of a way out of this. Well, the only one who _enjoyed_ fighting the Bat Man was Joker. Harvey wasn't exactly looking too into a fight either and Scarecrow didn't blame him. Harvey was essentially unarmed aside from a knife Joker had leant him. At least Crane always kept a small spray can of his toxin at hand. The Scarecrow looked through a shelf as the Bat Man started to walk into the door. No wonder he could sneak up on people so well; he was quiet. Crane smirked – he had an idea. "You know, Joker. I think that you _should_ go say hello."

Harvey looked down at Crane and then to the Joker. For once, he and Joker were sharing an expression: confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Wanna' pass that by me again, Scarecrow?" Joker lifted an eyebrow. The little genius was up to something. He had that 'psychiatrist I'm workin' ya' glint in his eye. It was a good look on the guy. Definitely made little Scarecrow more interesting, but Joker wasn't quite so sure he liked it directed at him.

"Pop out and spook him." Scarecrow waved his hand in a dramatic motion. He licked his lips nervously, fairly certain Joker wasn't buying it, but gave it his all anyway. "We never get the jump on him. He's looking for a burglar - just imagine his face when you pop out of nowhere!"

Joker shrugged. Up to something or not, the shorter man had a point. That did sound like fun. Batman was currently faced towards the broken register and Joker smirked. "Well, here I go."

"What are you doing?" Harvey hissed as Joker jumped out from around the bookcase with a whoop! There was a 'thud' from the contact of the two bodies and Harvey was now convinced Crane was insane for starting a fight with Batman. However, Crane didn't answer because he was already 'running' towards the back door as fast as the crutch would allow. The book case rattled when (Harvey assumed) the Joker was thrown into it by the Batman and their classic witty banter began. No sense in letting anyone know he was here. Harvey followed Crane. "Where are we going?"

"I'm excusing myself. The last time Joker and Batman got into a fight I ended up back at Arkham." Crane hissed and started to work on the lock at the back exit of the shop. "This time, the clown can handle himself."

"And if he gets angry we ditched him?" Harvey rubbed his faithful coin. "At least I have the excuse of 'I flipped to see if I should help and it said no.' Somehow I don't think that'll work for you."

"I'm sure I'll think of something when it comes up and either way he'll get over it." Crane didn't believe that for a second but it made him feel better for the moment. His main objective was to get out of the shop and away from the Bat Man. Then he could worry about getting away from the psychotic clown. "For now," He gave a little cheer when the lock broke. And just in time by the way the shouts and sounds of things breaking from the main room sounded. "Let's just get out of here."

Harvey found himself agreeing.

* * *

Harley wasn't sure why she was excited, but she was. The blonde clip-clopped her way down the hallway in her heels the moment she heard from Leland that he was back. Apparently Joker had gone solo and ran into the Batman again. He had been delivered to a holding cell earlier in the hour and while Harley still didn't have clearance to become his doctor, she _could_ walk by his cell just to see him.

Just to get a good look at her future patient of course.

If Harley missed the chance to see him now than she wouldn't be able to get to him until her request papers had cleared. The downfall of the high security patients was they required high security passes to go see them. Harley patted her hair down on the side of her head and made sure the bun was tight. It's not like she was excited or anything, but the man _had_ singled her out to give her a flower. And they'd never talked before! One really couldn't blame a girl for being curious.

Or taking advantage of a high ranking, top profile criminal taking an interest. Getting the hard nuts to crack was impossible, but if you get their interest they'll talk and the psychiatrist becomes famous and gets to go onto bigger and better things. Harley could do some real good for people if she only had more connections. The Joker was her ticket to those connections. Harley would make sure of it.

The Joker himself was currently humming against the wall as he fiddled with his straight jacket. His fight with Batman had been fun and little Scarecrow's suggestion had definitely been worth it. The look on the caped crusader's face was absolutely hilarious. He hadn't been expecting the Joker at all. And had said as much. Though, Joker was about to answer the man and explain why he had been in a bookstore, but when he turned around to point out his highness, he realized his little crow had flown the coop and taken the chick with him.

Joker had licked his lips with a slight frown, swept his hair back and shrugged at the Bat as if he had never begun a sentence. Batman just took it as an insane quirk instead of Joker being embarrassed which is why the Scarecrow was going to keep his hands. If Batman had said something or made a joke, than his little _Jonathan Crane,_ the distaste of the name foul even in his own head, would end up missing a limb or two.

Joker didn't blame Harvey. Man couldn't make up his mind worth shit these days so if Scarecrow left it lead to reason that Two-Face would follow him. Joker tilted his head back and forth. He wasn't really mad that they didn't help: Scarecrow was scared to death of Batman and well Harvey was in hiding, sort of. He wasn't even all that upset that they ditched.

But he was upset that Queenie sent him out to fight the Batman on purpose so he could escape with Harvey. Even if it was fun, Joker didn't completely appreciate being used as a tool. Partners worked off each other, sure, but usually they filled them in on the plan. Had his little bird explained that 'Hey! You go fight with Batman while Harvey and I get the hell out of here!' Joker would have been cool with it. But he didn't, so Joker would have to think of something fun to get back at him.

He just wouldn't break anything; the last thing he needed was another whiney excuse for everything.

It was the sight of blonde hair through the door window that caused Joker to drop his dastardly plots for his Scarecrow. "Well hello, there." Joker licked his lips. Seems his little flower was received if the piercing stare was anything to go by. Looks like Scarecrow and Two-Face would have to wait. Seems this plan was ready to go into action. And Joker never wanted to be late for some action.

Especially when it was blonde and attached to a pair of legs like those.

* * *

Crane burst into the apartment with almost a smile on his face. They had left both Joker and Batman far behind and he had about three to four hours at the minimum to pack and get the heck to a new hide-out before Joker broke out again and came looking. Plenty of time. Harvey was lingering about in the doorway looking quite out of place and flipping that damn coin again, but that was fine. Harvey could do whatever he wanted as long as Crane got out and back to his own life, Clown and Arkham free.

"So, what are we going to do now?" Harvey ventured as Crane began rushing to the back room looking for packing materials. The man was obviously in a hurry to get out of the apartment. "The Joker'll get out and come after us. Its' not like Arkham will hold him for long."

"I know that thank-you," Crane paused after setting a few bags down and heading towards his chemicals. He was more thankful than ever that he organized his work and projects so obsessively. It made packing so much faster. "Though I'm not quite sure why you phrased that with a 'we' since there is just a 'you' and a 'me.'"

Harvey scowled at Crane. It's true - he didn't like the guy and at the best of times strangling him seemed like the best option. But sadly, Harvey didn't have many other contacts right now and he doubted Crane had any other friends in the city either. Like it or not, they were probably stuck together. "Than what do you expect me to do? I'm not just going to sit here and wait for him."

"Flip your coin and decide for all I care. It does not concern me what you do with yourself, but I am leaving." Crane continued while neatly packing all of his vials and powders neatly into the suitcase. It was a shame he'd have to leave so much excess behind due to weight. "Go off on your own, stay here in this apartment and wait for him or go shoot yourself and escape either option. It's honestly none of my concern."

Harvey watched as Crane packed the 'essentials' as it were into a duffel and was almost impressed at how much he fit inside due to the neat organization. The man had fit all of the clothes he had picked up from the store plus at least four other outfits. He even made room to throw in his toiletries from the restroom. "That so."

"It is." A few more hurried moments of packing and Crane went for the money. Pocketing as much of the cash he could, he then stuffed some into the bag. Just on the off chance Joker took it personally, Crane made sure to leave plenty still in the apartment. After one last look, Crane adjusted his coat and picked up the two cases with one hand and threw the duffel over his shoulder. He headed for the door best he could while juggling the three bags and his walking stick. He was picking up a real crutch the first chance he got. "Good day and good luck, Mr. Dent."

Harvey rolled his eye and opened the door for the other man when he tried to balance something to get to the handle. Picking up a hat from the rack to help cover half of his face (not that it mattered in the gaudy suit he was wearing), Harvey followed Crane to the elevator and locked the apartment door behind him. Seeing the man struggle and not wanting to linger too long in the hall, Harvey grabbed a suitcase.

"What are you doing?" Crane asked as Harvey removed a bit of his burden. He secretly appreciated the help but in the end it just made Scarecrow more suspicious. Harvey didn't like him and he didn't like Harvey. It didn't make sense. "I do not need your assistance."

"Sure you don't." Harvey almost snorted. "And I'm coming with you so I might as well help out and make the travel go faster. Knowing you, you'll end up flat on your face before we even get out of the building."

"Excuse me?"

"Listen, I can't exactly walk into a store and order groceries with half of my face covered in bandages and with this suit. I have no other clothes and all of the Gotham PD are probably looking for me, not to mention the Batman. Not to mention, of the few people who know I'm alive, you're only one of two who has no interest of turning me back into Arkham." Crane scowled and Harvey shrugged. "As of right now, going with you is the lesser of two evils."

"And how do you know I won't poison or attack you?" Crane huffed. "It's not like we trust or like each other."

Harvey laughed for the first time in what felt like ages. He felt his old DA smirk falling back onto his face as he looked down at the shorter man. "I think I can take ya' straw man."

Crane grumbled to himself and stepped into the elevator. Harvey had a good foot and a half on him; he had a point. "Just watch yourself."

Harvey snorted. "Yeah, I will."

And for the second time in under a month, Crane found himself in yet another impromptu partnership. Only this time it felt more like an affair since as far as he knew the Joker might consider this 'cheating' on him or something. Ah well, that just made the stakes all the more higher. "I'm picking the new apartment."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter...need sleep. Thanks for reading. XD

"I don't think this is a wise idea." Leland hummed as she overlooked Harley's request papers to become the Joker's lead psychiatrist. Only two or three had even applied and even then Leland wasn't sure she wanted to stick them in a room with that monster. "He seems to be a bit advanced for an intern and his violence streak worries me."

"Well, he did show a amicable response when he was questioned about psychiatrists he'd talk to. Even if she doesn't get very far, at least he'll be talking to _someone_ without trying to kill them." Bartholomew rubbed his glasses in his hands. He didn't like it much either, but he was required to have the Joker see somebody for sessions. And he'd rather not put Leland in a room with that man. And Quinzel seemed like she was up for the challenge. "I think it'll work out. We've never seen him with a female doctor before. He might behave."

"I insist she gets a panic button and two guards just outside the room." Leland tapped the top of the desk. "And he has to be strapped down."

"Of course, I wouldn't dream of anything less. I also think that there should be a two sided window so they can watch the session."

"Thank-you." Leland nodded as she picked up her things. This was still a horrible idea, but they were running out of choices. She hoped Harley was up for this - or got frightened enough to make sure the session didn't make it past two minutes. "I'll go inform Harley she's up for a trial session."

* * *

"That is not what I ordered."

"It's close enough."

"No, it's not. I asked for a plain, grilled chicken sandwich with nothing but mayonnaise. This, is a fried chicken sandwich with the works." Crane poked the wrapped sandwich with his finger. "I even wrote it down so you wouldn't have to remember!"

"Look," Harvey licked his lip and stuck his elbow on the table to point at the doctor. "I ordered what you had on the paper, they put it in the bag and I left. Even if the order was wrong I wasn't going to risk being recognized to go back and fix the order. Eat it."

"What do you mean, risk being recognized? You've got your face covered. It's not like 'Harvey Dent' is the only person with face burns. And besides, you're dead remember? Even if someone goes 'Hey! That kinda' looks like Harvey Dent' their next thought will be 'But that can't be it! Harvey's dead.' The chances of someone actually knowing you're you is almost miniscule."

"Don't yell." Harvey opened his own hamburger to start eating. It was sad that they'd resorted to fast food. But they'd yet to find time to go grocery shopping and they were too low on cash for a lot of groceries. Crane picked up the order last time, so it was Harvey's turn. "It's just a sandwich."

Crane took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Harvey was right; he was making far too big a deal out of a wrong order. Scarecrow needed calm. Joker wasn't around, he had a new clean apartment and Harvey wasn't all that annoying. No need to get upset. "You're right, I'm sorry. Stress."

"We should work on that." It had been about a week since they 'escaped' from the Joker. They were both regretting not grabbing more money as the cash they stole was only enough to cover maybe two months rent. They could stretch it longer, but Crane had damn expensive taste about living quarters. "Do you have enough of that stuff to rig another game?"

"I do, but it's too soon." Crane stared distastefully at his sandwich. His stomach growled and he took a bite. He tried not to wince. "If I do it too often they won't brush it off as a coincidence and might realize they're actually poisoned. The adrenaline activation stays in the bloodstream for a while. So they'll still freak out for a while after the initial contact. It won't wear off for a week or so."

"So it does wear off?" Harvey brushed some crumbs from his new suit jacket sleeve. You'd think in a week he'd be able to buy a new suit, but some how that never fit into the equation. He was thankful the Joker hadn't broke out of Arkham yet. He'd probably find the little two-room flat he and Crane were sharing easily.

"Hmm?" Crane chewed and swallowed his bite. "It's based off an early formula. Almost all of my early works were designed for repeat trials. So, they eventually worked their way out of your system. It took about ten to fifteen repeated applications before the effects started to become permanent." Crane wiped a bit of mayo from his lip. "The batch I released in the narrows was one of the very few permanent poisons I'd created."

"Huh." Harvey sighed as it went back into the awkward silence that usually filled the room when they were in the same proximity. Things were fine when they went to their separate rooms, but when they sat together like this things always started okay and then dwindled down into silence. Harvey shouldn't be as bothered by it as he was, but he was used to social interaction. He couldn't talk to anyone for long periods of time or they might catch on to who he was and if he was going to reveal the cops of Gotham for what they were, it'd be more planned out. So that also destroyed any chance of talking with his old friends or going back to work.

And with Rachel gone...

"What's wrong with you?" Crane started to fold his sandwich wrapper. "You look like someone killed your dog."

 _All he had left was Dr. Jonathan Crane._ Harvey almost wanted to cry. "Nothing, just thinking."

"Ah, well I'm going to go back to work." Scarecrow stood up and threw his food away. "I should be back in a few hours to go get dinner."

Harvey sighed and rubbed what was left of his hair and stared at the half-eaten sandwich. He had a few options. Either somehow get to know the doctor better or get the heck out and find some other friends. Harvey caught sight of half his face in the hall mirror. The burnt flesh stared back at him, along with the new scowl on his face. It reminded him of corruption and his own failed revenge. Dr. Crane it was. After all:

Harvey was one of the freaks now.

* * *

"Hello, Joker." Harley smiled softly as she sat across from the other man, table between them. The poor man was in a straight jacket and practically bolted down to the chair. It almost seemed excessive. The man didn't seem all that bad now that she was seeing him in person. Without the make-up he was even sort of cute. "My name is Harleen Quinzel, but you can call me Harley."

"Could I call you 'beautiful?'"

"Maybe," Harley smiled coyly. Seemed this patient wanted to flirt. "If you answer my questions, that is."

"Well, then. I'll see what I can, uh, do for you." Joker smirked inwardly. Little Harley had that look in her eyes that Scarecrow got once in a while. The one where she believed she was completely in control of the situation. Though, the little lady didn't pull it off nearly as well as his pet doctor. She didn't have the practice, or the face for it. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know quite a lot," Harley smiled and held up her thick notebook. "So let's start with something you're comfortable discussing. Is there anything you'd like to share?"

"Um, not really." Joker laughed and tried to rock on his chair but failed. They even bolted his chair down. Excessive much? "I don't like sharing."

Harley tapped her pen. "You don't? What don't you like to share?"

"Anything." Joker leaned in as far as he could with the restraints. He could practically hear her pulse raise into the triple digits. Even her eyes dilated a bit. "Not secrets, not food, not toys, not games." Joker licked his lips. "And definitely not people."

"Ah." Harley's breath caught in her throat. There was something so deep in those eyes that just sent chills running down her spine. "Well, that's, have you ever considered why that is?"

"Not really," Joker leant back. He had the woman's rapt attention. She was right where he wanted her. His highness was right, she was _way_ too easy. "But I have been considering your name."

"What about my name?"

"Well, if you, cut it short," Joker licked his lips. "Just a bit, you get something new."

"And what would that be?"

"Harley Quinn." Joker giggled. "Which is another way of saying..." Joker left the sentence hanging as open as a wound. He knew it'd come any second...and there, it -

"Harlequin."

* * *

Crane looked over his shoulder as Harvey walked into the room and sat in a corner. He had two chemicals in his hands ready to mix, but this odd turn of events was almost disturbing. They'd been roommates in for a week and they only time they'd talk was meals. What made him come in now? Was he going to attempt a very belated revenge for their time together with Joker? He spoke very slowly, because Harvey was still staring at him. Definitely unnerving. "Did you, need something?"

"Not really." Harvey started to flip his coin in his hand while Crane stared at him. He looked nervous and confused. The man wasn't very good at hiding his thoughts for someone who fooled all of Arkham. Maybe he was just out of practice. "I guess you could say I was just bored and watching you work is better than watching the wall."

"Alright." Crane turned back to his chemicals and tried to ignore the sound of the flipping coin and the feel of Harvey's eyes on his back. He really, really wished Harvey would keep the bandages on when he was at home. The open flesh was disturbing, especially when that large uncovered, unblinking eye was drilling a hole into your back. Crane set the test tube down on the table. "Okay, really - why are you here?"

Harvey laughed again and tried to calm down his breathing. For a guy he didn't like all that much, the good doctor did seem to make him laugh. And Crane broke pretty quickly all things considered. "I was thinking, that we should give some consideration to a real partnership in working together. We both need money to live, and we both have goals. Working as a duo just seems to be the best possible solution."

"And we should work together because?"

"A double-team is almost always better, isn't it?" Harvey smirked. "A bird in the hand is worth more than two in the bush? Two-timing Gotham could possibly be fun? Or-"

"Enough of the puns." Crane smirked and went back to his drugs. "Even that's two, too many."

Harvey laughed again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo~ Another chapter. Writing this fic is like a roller coaster; the quality of writing keeps changing per chapter. XD Ah well, thanks for putting up with it! & Thanks for reading and reviewing!

_Poor Baby._

Harley knew it was unprofessional, but how could she not think that after hearing such a story? No wonder the poor man acted out in such a childish fashion and with so much violence. He was only acting on what he had learned from his father. Carving up your son's face with a knife just because he wouldn't smile for the family photo- it was disgusting. Harley imagined that Joker was only telling her a little bit of his stories from his childhood, but she could tell it was worse.

"I don't hate my dad you know."

 _Of course not, you're too good for that._ "You don't? That's hard to believe."

"'Cause deep down I knew it was just his way of showing he cared about me." Joker licked his lips and glanced every once in a while to the side. It looked like he was avoiding eye contact, but in reality he was trying to unnerve the guards on the other side of the two-way mirror. "Ya' can't really hate a guy for that even if he was a bit messed up."

"No, I suppose not." Harley smiled softly. He was so forgiving, too. She could hardly believe this is the same man who tried to blow up two ferries. "Why don't we switch gears for a moment and talk about something that made you happy as a child. Just so we don't get too boggled down with the depressing matters."

"I like that," Joker grinned. "Happy is always better. I love putting smiles on people's faces."

"Do you?" Harley nodded. This was a good direction to go considering the Joker's more recent scheme. "Is that why you created that laughing gas? To help people smile?"

"Huh? That? Oh, no." Joker shrugged. "I wanted to give his highness something to do. He was kinda' bored sitting around all day. So I figured 'why not?'"

"His highness?"

"Scarecrow." Joker watched the recognition dawn on her face and almost snickered. That's right; his highness and the little lady in front of him didn't get along. Joker could use that. "Speakin' of him, I heard that he made you cry. Now why on earth would he want to do that?"

"I think he has a few issues of his own that need to be worked out." Harley could feel her grip tightening on her pen. "But we're not really permitted to talk about other patient sessions."

"Ah," Joker nodded in an almost sagely fashion before snorting into a small laugh. "Bit of a jerk, ain't he?"

"In a manner of speaking," Harley spoke low with a coy smile. Joker was far too easy to talk to. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"Lips are sealed." Joker did a little shrug of his shoulders. "Like a zipper."

Harley couldn't help but chuckle at the cute motion his mouth made trying to mimic the zipper. "That's good to know, especially since you don't share secrets."

"I do my best, oop. Looks like our time is up."

"Hmm?" Harley checked her watch. They still had another thirty or so minutes. "What makes you say that?"

"The scary lady tapping her foot behind you." Joker leant over to get a better look behind Harley. "Howdy Ms. Leland. I'd wave but, ya' know. Kinda' tied up."

"The thought is all that counts." Joan smiled softly. "Your session is up for today, Harley."

"But, the sessions are always an hour." Harley protested slightly. She was just scratching the surface with the Joker. There was no way Leland was cutting the session short!

"This is a trial session, Harley." Joan kept her smile in place. She had _not_ liked what she'd seen during the session, but saying so now would cause a fuss. The Joker was far too good at this for Harley; Joan was now positive of that. "You did a good job, but today's session will be cut short for evaluation. I'm going to finish out your session with the patient."

Harley glared but stood up anyway. If she got fired she'd never see the man again. "Yes, Joan."

"See-you later, beautiful." Joker licked his lips when she gave a small wave and headed out the door. Leland was glaring at him like he was the devil himself. That might make things more difficult if the good doctor was onto his plans. Time for plan B. "And how are you today, Ms. Leland? It's nice to meet you face to face. Scarecrow speaks highly of you."

"Does he now?" Joan waited for the door to close completely behind her before taking a seat in Harley's place. "I wouldn't think Jonathan would be too happy with me. After all, I stuck him with an intern as his doctor, which we both know is a rather large insult to his degree, even if he understands that there's a conflict of interest for the rest of us to treat him."

Joker whistled. "That right there is probably why. You're a smart cookie. But he did speak well of you in between insulting blondie."

"Well I'll have to say thank-you the next time I see him."

"I'll be sure to say hello for you the next time _I_ see him."

Joan frowned. "So you believe you'll be seeing him before I do?"

"I don't believe." Joker laughed. "I know."

* * *

She received another rose. Harley practically twirled in her office as she looked at the dainty flower. This time it had been a white rose that he had dipped the petals blue. It was absolutely gorgeous. Harley couldn't even be bothered to try and figure out where he had gotten the thing in the first place.

Nor did she know how Joker had gotten out of his cell to put it there, but he was in his cell now (she had walked by just to see if she could spy him again) which meant he wanted to stay and see her again. Dr. Leland would not ruin this opportunity so Harley vowed to yet again keep the rose a secret. Harley could sense it in her bones that she'd be the one to help the Joker come back to society. They had definitely connected in those brief thirty minutes.

And this rose was proof.

"Had a wonderful time today. Sorry it was cut short." Harley read the card on the stem out loud. He was such a sweet-

Harley stopped dead in her tracks as she held the rose. She slowly reached down to her wrist and checked her pulse. Elevated. Harley walked over to the mirror on her shelf. Face was flushed. She licked her lips and realized she had been shaking with glee and had a warm fuzzy feeling in her gut. "Oh no."

Harley had a crush on the Joker.

* * *

"So what is your goal, Dent?" Crane asked relatively out of the blue as the two of them sat and watched the news. (Harvey had insisted they buy a television to keep up with current events…) It had been bothering him for a bit now since the man offered to start up an official partnership. He had a feeling Harvey knew what it was Crane wanted, but he really had no clue what it was Harvey wanted out of the deal. "You mentioned having one."

"I'm not quite sure yet." Harvey clicked the remote and started to surf the networks. "It's a toss up between getting revenge on the Gotham PD for covering me up and declaring me dead or just trying to start over with a new life."

Crane lifted an eyebrow with a smirk. "And you haven't flipped your coin to pick yet? You've certainly started using it to decide everything else."

"I would, but I rubbed it so much it's back to being a double-headed coin." Harvey flipped the coin over in his hand and stared at the equally silver sides. All the dirt from Rachel's explosion had been completely rubbed clean.

Crane ran a hand through his hair to fluff it a bit and held in the laugh. "Let me guess, you can't decide which side to stain to get your little decision maker back?"

Harvey restrained himself from smacking the man. It was sad the only friend he had right now was such a prick. Shame what he said was true. Harvey really couldn't decide which side he wanted to mar. "Shut up."

"I'll take that as a yes." Crane stood up and walked towards the kitchen. Poor Harvey suffering from such mental trauma that he couldn't make any of his own decisions. It'd be funny if it wasn't so sad or destructive. He pulled a crooked knife out from the drawer. "We'll have to fix that."

"What are you doing with that?" Harvey stood up when Crane came back over. He was looking far too smug and something about that man with a knife didn't exactly give Harvey a good warm feeling inside.

"Fixing your little problem. If you can't make up your mind than you'll be nothing but excess baggage in this partnership you're so determined to make work." Crane plucked the coin from Harvey's hands effortlessly and sat it on the table. With the knife and very little hesitation, he started to carve to very jagged and deep lines into one side of the coin. It was difficult, but he managed well enough. Harvey looked ready to kill him , barely managing to control himself. Good. "There."

Harvey caught the coin as it was thrown at him. The one side was still perfect, but now the other had two deep gashes cut through the face of the coin. "You cut it."

"Let's see you rub that off." Crane smirked and took the now rather dull knife back to the kitchen and threw it in the trash. "Now, you said you had a decision to make?"

Harvey grit his teeth at the overly smug man and swallowed while he looked at the coin again. The gash wasn't that ugly and it did work better than the scarred dirt. And at least now whenever he looked at the coin he'd think of Crane instead of Rachel. That burning in his heart as he thought of her last moments wouldn't be brought up nearly as often. Instead, he'd just have his anger for this haughty man who was now his partner. "So I do."

Crane watched as Harvey flipped the coin with an almost relish. It landed in his palm and he smacked it on the back of the opposite hand, but kept it covered with almost what could be called hesitation. "Well? Which is it?"

Harvey lifted his hand slowly and stared at the jarred surface. He felt the smile draw on his face. "Looks like Gotham PD's about to have their hands full."

Crane lifted both of his eyebrows. "Fun."

* * *

Leland was going to kill the clown.

The woman threw the rose into the wall and sucked in a deep breath. "I'll say hi to Scarecrow for you." Leland crunched the tag in her hand and restrained herself from throwing a vase across the room. She knew that clown was bad news. He deserved to be in a prison, not the asylum. This was proof that he was acting just to get under her skin with intent.

The Joker had broken out of his cell a little under three hours ago and was believed to have left the premises. Again. Leland wasn't quite surprised that this had happened. The Joker was proving harder to keep contained than any other patient they'd ever treated. The escape was almost to be expected so that's why she didn't bother to get angry about that.

The fact he had the gall to come to her office and leave her a 'present' before he left though, that was downright worthy of rage.

"Joan!"

Dr. Leland stopped storming her office long enough to turn and see Harley burst into the room. "Harley? Are you alright?"

"The Joker! He's gone missing?"

Harley almost sounded panicked. That was not a good sign and Leland resolved to definitely have her removed from his list of potential doctors. Though, most of the asylum knew that the Joker was gone already…oh yes. Leland glanced at her watch. Harley came in late on Thursdays for something or another. She would have just found out. "Yes, he escaped a few hours ago."

"Oh, I hope he's alright." Harley bit her lip and held her hands together, practically wringing them. She didn't know it was possible to be this worried about someone.

Leland nodded very slowly. "I'm sure he's fine, dear." This was definitely not a good sign. "Why don't we sit down and talk about it?"

"Okay." Harley sniffed. This would be good for her. She could talk to Joan about it and try and keep her mind from worrying if the other man was alright. After her realization in her office about her feelings for the man, Harley had tried to deny it. She did. But the moment she heard he was out and all alone the dam broke and she couldn't deny it any longer.

She had only known him for thirty minutes and it was irrational she knew, but Harleen Quinzel was head over heels in love with the Joker.

* * *

"Shit."

"What is it?" Harvey asked from the table where he was sorting ammunition. Wasting no time after making up his mind for their plan of action, Harvey had taken it upon himself to procure some weapons. And as Gotham's previous DA, he knew where all the deals were going down and just who had access. Odd how some information came in handy when you least expected it. Though, Crane staring at the TV like it had bitten him probably wasn't a good sign. Harvey put the gun down to go see what was so interesting. "What…"

Harvey stopped beside him and looked at the television. The headline read 'Joker escaped.' No wonder Crane had cursed. "At least we had a week."

Crane grabbed his hair and stood up from the couch reaching for his crutch (a real one with padding ) and headed towards the bedroom where he promptly began to lower the blinds. Things were fine. Joker couldn't possibly know where they are. Crane and Dent had done a wonderful job of lying low. "How do you feel about acting on your plan after we're sure he's not coming after us?"

Harvey flipped the coin just to watch Crane scowl and roll his eyes. The coin landed on heads so he didn't bother to flip it over to the back of his palm. "Works for me."

"Good." Crane started to lock the windows. "Help me lock the doors. It won't keep him out, but it'll give us a few seconds longer."

"No traps?"

Crane considered it for a moment. "That'll just piss him off."

"Agreed." Harvey looked over at the guns on the table. "Though now I wish we had spent our money on food stores instead of guns since we'll be wasting away."

"We could always eat the bullets."

Harvey rolled his eyes and tried to pretend he could tell whether or not the Scarecrow was serious.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurrah! Inspiration! I love Crane & Two-Face. I'm tempted to pair them…but I'm being a good girl and keeping this a Gen. Fic. XD thanks for reading and reviewing!

Alfred was not happy.

"Any luck old friend?" Bruce looked over at his butler who was staring at his racing ticket, clenched in his hand. The man had taken up a bigger interest in gambling now that he was on a mission. "Isn't that a winning card?"

"It is. The crook hasn't struck in a while and it's bothering me."

"Maybe it is just a coincidence?" Bruce ventured.

"No, it most certainly is not and if you know what's good for you sir, you'll realize it too. I just know that this is the key."

"Whatever you say, Alfred." Bruce hummed and walked out to the headquarters. Bruce still couldn't understand why this gambling thing meant so much to his friend, but best to let it go for now. For all he knew, someone really had rigged those two events. "I'm heading out to do a run Alfred."

"Again, sir?" Alfred frowned. "You haven't had any luck finding him. I think you need a break."

"I'll take a break when you drop the gambling thing."

"Touché, sir."

* * *

"Would you quit that?" Harvey snarled as Scarecrow circled the room for a fifth time. The man had been pacing around all morning and it was driving him out of his mind. The fact he'd been managing to do it with the crutches just made it all the more annoying. Click, thud, click, thud. Harvey was ready to shoot him. Or the wooden floor. He was waiting to flip on it. "Just sit down."

Crane scowled back at the ex-DA and waved out a hand. "Forgive me for being nervous, but you think he would have shown up by now. The anticipation is murder."

It had been over a week. Harvey thought with a frown as he flipped his coin from the couch. A whole week of lying as low as humanly possible and only leaving the apartment once for a food run. And Crane and he had gone together. In fact, they'd barely left each other's side in the entire week on the off chance Joker got the jump on them. They had even shoved both beds into one room so at least one of them would wake up should he break in. Power in numbers, as they say.

Sadly, for the both of them, it was mostly just wearing their nerves thin.

Crane, for one, had discovered that Harvey's coin had to be the most absurd thing on the planet. Ever since he scratched the other side (which he considered more of a cruel jab at Harvey than help…) 'Two-Face' had been using it to decide just about everything. The speed of the man's mental collapse was really quite remarkable if it hadn't also been so annoying. Really now, who used a coin to decide if they wanted ham or turkey for lunch?

Harvey had found Crane annoying from the start. The man obviously thought he was better in all ways than everyone else. Narcissism wears thin after a while. At least before he had the Joker to sort of knock Crane down a peg every once in a while or keep him occupied. Though, probably the worst was Crane would never shut up. The man _adored_ to hear himself talk. Harvey was convinced the man talked to himself in full conversation when he was alone inside his lab.

Not to mention they both felt pathetic for being scared of a clown. But the man had proven to be a dangerous opponent to the point that even Crane and Harvey were starting to appreciate each other more, if only for their mutual terror of going back to living as a threesome. Harvey rubbed the open section of his cheek thoughtfully.

"Maybe he's not coming?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Dent." Crane paused in his pacing to bite his thumbnail and leaned heavily on his crutches. "He's going to come back. He's just trying to make us nervous by making us wait."

"And succeeding." Harvey muttered.

Crane stalked over to the couch as best as one could on crutches. "Well, I don't see you doing anything about it! At least I'm thinking when I'm pacing!"

"Think sitting."

"Fine." Crane dropped down onto the couch and put his crutches aside. Not that he was giving in, but Harvey was getting that look in his eye. That one that said he was seconds away from flipping the coin to see if he would kill you or not. Crane already lost one coin toss and wasn't willing to try again. Said Scarecrow rubbed his eye around the sore area and hoped the bruising would fade soon. "What are the chances he's really lost interest in us?"

"Slim."

"I figured as much." Crane picked up the remote and flicked on the news. Little ticker tapes of "Joker still at large" fell on the bottom of the screen. Really, they should just never report he'd been taken to Arkham. The man gets out like a day or two later anyway. Crane's stomach growled slightly and he moaned. "We're still out of money, aren't we?"

"Just what's left to pay next month's rent. And we can't afford to spend that."

"As if things couldn't get any worse."

"If you just jinxed us, coin or not I will beat you stupid."

"Shut up or I'll poison you."

* * *

How dare she.

How _dare_ she.

"How dare she!" Harley yelled out in the Arkham doctor's private bathroom to the mirror. Leland had taken her from the Joker case. Too much personal involvement with the patient causing her to drop her professionalism interfering with her work. What kind of bull argument was that? Harley merely cared about her patient and his recover. What was the crime in that? Even Leland admitted to caring about her patients!

Harley wrung her hands together as she paced the small restroom. As if it wasn't bad enough that she was worried about the poor Joker all alone and scared out there in the mean streets of Gotham, Leland had to ensure that she'd never see him again if he came back!

Well, then. Harley would just have to work on getting Dr. Bartholomew on her side. Harley had done more in her thirty minutes than most of the other doctors on staff when _they_ talked to the man. Bartholomew would have to override Leland's decision concerning the Joker. He just had to.

Assuming he came back. Harley prayed that the man was taken down easily and in such a way that the trauma was limited. Though knowing Gotham's finest those chances were slim. All she could do is hope her Joker was returned in one piece.

* * *

"What is that?" Harvey leaned over the other man's shoulder to see what he was mixing on the table. The two of them had been giving each other the silent treatment for a bit, but Harvey was bored. So, pestering Crane was up on his list of things to do while waiting for the Joker to come ruin the moment. "And why are you dying it red?"

"It's a new mixture for my fear gas." Crane muttered. "I'm trying to get my powder to turn into a gas when I throw it at people. The aerosol can around my wrist is rather cumbersome." Crane paused and looked over. "Shouldn't you have your face covered?"

"Why?"

"All that exposed flesh around chemicals. Even I'm wearing goggles." Crane spoke as if Harvey were six. Surely the man had chemistry in high school. "Or do you just not care?"

"I can't feel that half of my face anyway. I doubt it would matter much."

"Ah." Crane almost doubted that statement was true but best not to call attention to it. He turned back to his chemicals and tried to keep himself busy. Two days later and the Joker _still_ hadn't stopped by. Maybe the other man really was distracted by something else. "Anyway, this isn't going very well so would you mind being quiet? I can get the powder to turn into a gas, but not on contact. It's an oxygen reaction so it'll turn into a gas far too quickly and I'll be the one inhaling it."

"Why don't you just make a bomb or something?"

"What?"

"You know, like a packet of power to keep the oxygen from getting in that breaks easy when you hit it against something. Like a water balloon, I guess." Harvey picked up a random vile of red stuff and looked at it. "You could also just throw it at the ground near them and have it break open."

Crane pouted and tapped a pen on the table. He didn't want to admit that sounded like a good idea. "That would still be a hassle to carry around."

"More of a hassle than having loose powder in your sleeve?"

"Point taken." Crane muttered and started looking around his desk for something he could use to wrap the powder with. Sadly, he did have to admit (to himself anyway) that it was a good idea. The test subject would be too initially distracted by the object thrown at them to realize the power coating them was turning into a gas. Crane looked around for a bit until he found some strips of orange material he had been using as a sealant. "This might work."

Harvey looked at the orange color and couldn't help himself. "You should make them into little jack o'lanterns."

Scarecrow responded accordingly by breaking an Erlenmeyer flask on Harvey's head.

* * *

"You're a hard guy to track down, ya' know that Bats?"

Bruce stared at the Joker standing on top of his Tumbler and nearly dropped the unconscious criminal he had just apprehended robbing an ATM. The alley was otherwise deserted, much to Bruce's relief. "Joker."

"Yup." Said clown smiled and jumped down from the vehicle, tank thing, to strut over to his favorite man in a mask. He hoped the man would be in the mood for a rumble tonight. Joker would hate for his plans to go astray because Batman was feeling generous. "How've you been?"

Bruce was slightly confused. He'd admit that the Joker quite often sought out his attention, almost obsessively, but it was usually through explosions or death threats. This walking up to just say 'hi' thing was odd and suspicious. He looked around the alley for any sign of Crane, should the Joker still be threatening him to work together. "What do you want?"

"To see you." Joker nodded and pulled his hair back before licking his lips. This is how it should be; just him and the Batman and a plan under his belt. "I ran into mutual acquaintance of ours and thought I'd say 'hello' for him."

Bruce felt like a boulder had fallen into his stomach. "What have you done with Harvey?"

"Wow, straight to the point, aren't ya?" Joker snickered. "But how'dya know he's the guy I'm talking about?"

"You wouldn't be dangling it over my head if it wasn't. We both know I've been looking for him since he escaped from Arkham." Bruce paused and sat the burglar down on the ground. Best not to have his hands full in case the Joker made a move. "Now, where is he?"

"He's fine ya' know. It's not like I hurt him." Joker held out his hands, a knife now in the right one. "We're good buddies now. Him, me and Scarecrow. Like the three amigos. Three peas in a pod. Best of friends forever and ever. Getting what I'm saying? Now why would I hurt my friend?"

"You broke Crane's leg."

Joker frowned. What was it with everyone and the Scarecrow's leg? "He had that coming."

"Where is Harvey?"

"I swear, can't we ever just have a normal conversation?" Joker 'tsked' and shook his head. "Why should I tell you anything when you're just going to be like a big parrot. Though I'm not sure why you'd even ask. Last time I told you were Harvey was, he wasn't there, remember? Oh wait, or was it when I told you where Rachel was she wasn't there…either way. The Joker shrugged with a small giggle. "It still ended in a bang which means you should really know better by-"

Bruce couldn't stop himself from launching out at the Joker and punching his face in.

"Ow," Joker stumbled away and held his jaw. This was working better than he planned. That Rachel chick was a gold mine for getting people pissed. "Looks like I made you a little mad. You and Harvey should really have a chat about anger management. He didn't like me bringing up the cutie either-" Batman went for the gut this time and Joker hit into a pole. The things he did for affection. "But then again he might find out you were both bangin' the same chick."

Bruce should have known better. He should have known better in the interrogation room when he lost his head and he should _know_ better right now. But he didn't care. Batman completely lost his temper on the Joker. As if the man couldn't sink any lower he drags up old wounds while creating new ones. Blow after blow and the Joker was starting to look like a grape even through the white make-up. Bruce was sure he had broken the man's arm at some point during the barrage.

But it was all a blur.

After what felt like eternity, the Batman finally stopped hitting him. Joker grimaced as he realized the man had broken not only his arm but probably a rib or two. His entire body was definitely one big bruise. Jeesh, temper much? Joker slowly sat up while the other man was catching his breath. Joker snickered. "The bully look works well for you."

Batman kicked in his gut. "Where is Harvey?"

Joker laughed with a high pitched giggle and fell on his back. His smile was huge. God above it hurt all over. "I don't know."

"Where is he?" Batman's voice was silent and quiet for once.

"I really, uh, don't know." Joker rolled over on his side to try and stand up through the pain. "Scarecrow took him away and flitted off."

"What?" Batman stared.

"I said," Joker stood tall and licked the blood that was dropping into his lipstick. "Scarecrow took him."

"So where is he?"

"I'm not tellin'" Joker snickered. The Batman's eyes were trying to drill a hole straight through his heart. Just the way Joker liked them. "You'll have ta' give us a kiss for that information."

Batman hit the Joker so hard he was sure to be out like a light until next Tuesday.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the Harley-Romance has gone by a little quickly. But then again, it went pretty fast in the show, too. It's love at first sight people – since when did that take time? :D
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Joan Leland had an iron grip on Harley's arm. The woman was near shaking in hysterics after seeing the Joker in his current condition. Joan would admit later that Joker was in pretty bad shape when Batman dragged him in by his collar and dumped him on the ground, bleeding and bruised, but right now she had other things on her mind. "Let the medics take him, Harley. You'll be in the way."

"That's…that's so." _Disgusting._ Was the only thought racing through Harley's mind. The Joker had done nothing wrong over the past week and some that he'd been free. And yet the Batman did… _that_ to him. His face was beaten, his ribs were bruised and the swelling of his arm indicated that there was a break. "How could he."

"I think we need to go and let them handle this, Harley." Joan tried to usher the girl away from the scene but seemed to be failing. It's like the girl's eyes were glued to the clown now receiving attention from the medics. "Harley?"

"Yeah, Joan." Harley's voice sounded a little flat, even to her. Seeing someone so great, reduced to such a pathetic state by that bully of a Batman was too much for her head. Sure, the guy killed all those people, but he had good reason and he was traumatized. What sort of bully beat on the mentally unstable? That didn't make any sense.

In fact, so far the only person who'd made any sense at all was Joker and his reasoning for rampaging on the city. Harley took once last look back at the Joker and met his eyes for a few brief seconds. They were full of so much longing and just begging for help Harley felt like she was falling into a pool. And then something just snapped.

"Ow, Harley?" Joan snatched her arm back when the woman smacked her grip away. She rubbed it slightly before reaching for the girl's shoulder again. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be in my office." Harley snarled and started stalking down the hallway to get away from Joan Leland and her cronies. None of them understood what was going on; they were all far too blind to see. And all Harley could see was red and black. Her anger and the color the Batman's face was gonna' be when she got done hitting him.

* * *

"I can not believe you went for the face."

"You hit me in the head with a piece of glass."

"In the hair!" Crane whirled away from the mirror he was looking in to point at Harvey lounging on the couch. "You got nicked with tiny pieces of glass at the worst where know one could see anything. This," Crane pointed to the very large gash on the side of his face that had blood dribbling down to cover his white shirt. "Is a very visible, likely to fester, open wound. What? The black eye from earlier wasn't bad enough!? I know you're self conscious about your own face but taking it out on mine is no…"

 _Blah blah blah._ Harvey rolled his eye and held the ice pack back to the top of his head. If the glass to the head wasn't bad enough, after he retaliated in turn by decking Crane, the little freak hit him with a metal clamp on his way to the floor. Harvey then pushed him out of the room the moment he was on his feet and into the living space (for more room and to get away from the chemicals) and knocked him over a chair. Crane then hit Harvey with the lamp.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say your obsession with hitting the face has to do with a mix of your personal trauma and jealousy over loosing your good looks but I hate to break it to you but you were never all that good looking even before half your face was burnt off…"

Harvey started to flip his coin with his free hand as per his much ingrained new habit. After the lamp, there was something about a lot of hitting and swearing and hair pulling. It all got sort of fuzzy by that point because he was sure Crane had gotten in at least one hit to the burnt side of his face and that had made him just a bit out of it. Eventually they both just hit the ground breathing heavily and staring at each other before calling it a day. And now Crane was inspecting the damage in a mirror and Harvey just wanted him to _stop talking._

"Honestly. What are we? Barbarians? Reduced to petty fighting and brutality? I should have just poisoned you and be done with it. Be thankful I was in the lab and none of my compounds were functional at the moment or so help me…"

Harvey didn't point out that Crane had been the one to start the fight. "Please, just be quiet."

Crane scowled down at the relatively unscathed Harvey Dent. All considered, the Scarecrow hadn't done too bad for a guy with a cast on his leg. In fact, it came in handy when he used one of his crutches to trip up Harvey. Sadly he fell on his good side. Not that he really had one. "I'll be quiet when I want to be quiet. You're not the only one with a headache. What a waste of an afternoon."

"For once we agree on something." Harvey snorted and held his stomach. "Do we have anything left in the fridge?"

Crane turned back to the mirror to inspect the wound on his face yet again. It had stopped bleeding but it was still sure to leave a mark. He pushed at it and wanted to pout. Did Harvey really, really have to hit in his _face?_ "Check for yourself." He turned. "And if this scars I will make sure the rest of your face is symmetrical with the burnt half."

"Like you could, and you're the one who's already standing so you should be the one to check."

"I'm impressed we didn't break anything during all of that."

A deliberate change of subject; Harvey growled and could feel his patience running very thin. The fight was supposed to be over. Crane was such a women clinging to the same topic forever and not letting it go… "Is there food or not? Just because you eat like the damn bird that you are doesn't mean the rest of us want to starve."

"The 'rest of us?'" Crane let out a superior chuckle before covering his mouth. "What? Are there _two_ of you now?"

Harvey grit through his teeth and started to clutch at the coin. "You know what I meant."

"Do I?" Scarecrow hummed happily as he walked towards the kitchen. He had no intention of checking the fridge but just being in an even closer proximity was sure to get under Harvey's skin. Or what was left of it. "Maybe you're developing a split personality what with this new heated mood of yours popping up so often."

"This is ridiculous." Harvey stood up and stalked over to the table between the crow and himself. They had their fight. They were done and Harvey was sick of it. He and Crane were going to sit down, eat and then figure out their next plan of attack. Simple. "Check the damn fridge."

"Temper, temper, Harvey dear." Crane crooned before leaning against the fridge door with a smirk. "Or am I talking to Two-Face?"

In retrospect, slamming the man's head into the table that third time may have been a little harsh. Harvey pouted down at the unconscious Scarecrow as he tried to calm his breathing down and sighed. He maybe had a point about the temper thing. Though it's not completely his fault all things considered. Harvey was now fairly convinced that Crane had no ability whatsoever to judge other people's emotional levels. It's like the man believed no one would dare strike him even if repeated trials had proven otherwise.

Or he wanted to get hit.

Either way, Harvey reached down nonetheless and hoisted the man up over his shoulder as easy as a rag doll before cracking open the fridge. Empty. Just wonderful. Unconscious roommate and nothing in the fridge. Add in the demented clown that was biding his time and life couldn't get much better.

"Looks like I'll have to go out then." Harvey muttered before walking back to the bedroom and dumping Crane on the bed in his half of the room. He hit the mattress with a 'thud' and a slight bounce, but otherwise remained out of it. Harvey almost didn't want to leave now that the man had finally shut up. Turns out all Harvey really missed for company was the sound of someone else breathing.

His stomach growled.

A coin flip later and Harvey was putting on his hat, bandages and scarf. Looks like grocery shopping was next on his list. "Have a nice nap, Doc."

* * *

That, had worked a lot better than planned.

"What's a matta' gaping like that? Don't ya' like your new Harley Quinn?"

Joker had to hand it to the little lady, she was nuts, but she sure knew how to make an entrance. He wanted to laugh or something but he was sure the shock was still on his face. There standing before him, was a very shapely woman, that could only be Ms. Quinzel, holding a gun up near her head and dressed in a skin tight black and red harlequin suit. Girl even had the jester-style headpiece on her head. The girl had even blown up the wall to his cell.

Originally, Joker had gotten himself beat up to play the pity card and get her to let him have access to the fun stuff a lot easier. He could do it all himself, sure, but this way he could do more things at once. Mess around with Scarecrow one minute while having Ms. Harley setting up a gag or something at the same time. Joker had fully expected her to fall head over heels in love with him and the beaten up by bats routine was the cincher. (Plus it was a hell of a lot of fun and who didn't love Batman pounding on them?) He had not, however, expected the little lady to completely lose her noggin.

Joker whistled. "Lookin' good."

"Thank-ya.'" Harley giggled and held a hand out to take his non-broken one while trying not to trip on the rubble in her new shoes. She couldn't help but think the Joker looked adorable sitting there in his orange jumper and look of surprise on his face. This was such a good idea! "Let's get 'outta here."

"Yes ma'am." Joker let himself be lead out of the room and into the hallway that was still filled with smoke settling. The other patients now had their noses glued to the windows trying to see what was going on. "You sure know how ta, treat a guy right."

"Nothin's too good for you!"

Joker was impressed with himself. He had achieved total adoration and service in less than twenty four hours of contact. He'd make bets he could say 'jump' and she'd reply 'how high?' Most likely with a giggle even. Why couldn't he have had that sort of luck with Scarecrow or Two-Face? "Lead the way, baby doll!"

"Right!" Harley threw her key card into the slot and the door opened quickly. Out into the doctor's area now, they were home free. She'd get her precious Mr. J away from Arkham, the Bats, Joan and anyone else who wanted to get in between her and her puddin.' She could definitely affirm right now that her Joker wasn't evil. It was everyone else that was screwed up. With his hand in hers she could tell that this is the right choice. Nothing that felt this good could be wrong. "The car's right outside, warm and ready to go!"

Harley-girl was true to her word. Sitting right outside was a blue beetle ready to go, engine running and everything. He took a seat in the passenger side and she hit the driver's, slamming the gas almost upon entry. Joker pulled down the window to hang his head outside, loving that she was a woman who knew how to drive. Though, there was one thing still bugging him. "Not that I'm uh, complaining but if you had the keycard why'd ya' blow down my door?"

"I wanted to make a good impression." Harley grinned as the Joker started to chuckle and hit the top of her car. He looked so happy! "Where to, Mr. J?"

 _Mr. J._ Joker kinda' liked that. "Right now? Anywhere you wanna' go, Harley-girl! I've got an arm in a cast, I'm in a dorky orange get up and I'm ready to cause some trouble!"

"Yeah!" Harley cheered and rolled down her own window. This was the most fun she'd ever had in her life.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earl Grey Tea + Milk & Sugar = Yum.

"I wonder if they put something in the water."

"Sir?"

"At Arkham." Bruce threw the newspaper down on his table with a huff. The article detailing Harleen Quinzel's descent into madness and her first crime breaking the Joker out of the nut house remained face up and mocked him. "It's only a matter of time before a third one goes loses their mind."

"Under the conditions in which they work, I'm not all that surprised. Working with lunatics like the Joker day in and day out has to have some toll on a person's sanity." Alfred smiled as he set down a cup of evening tea for Bruce. He wondered briefly if there was a betting pool on the next Arkham employee to lose their mind.

"Think she's still alive, Alfred?" Bruce muttered as he looked at the image of the meek doctor across the page of the paper. "According to her boss Dr. Leland, Joker was suspected of trying to seduce and con her into his favor while in sessions together. Apparently the girl was removed from his case out of concern and that's when she went nuts."

"It's interesting that even a man like that can still manage enough charisma to seduce a young lady."

"Yeah." Bruce sighed and reached for the cup Alfred had brought him. It just didn't make any sense. What possible attraction could she have to that psychopath? The man was a sadistic lunatic that most likely slit her throat the moment they escaped. "And one more person on my list that I need to keep track of. This is getting out of hand, Alfred."

"Well, maybe next time you'll learn to put tags on them."

"Don't talk like that Alfred, I might take you seriously."

"Who said I was joking?"

Bruce laughed and dug into his breakfast. A meeting in the morning followed by some social upkeep were first on his list for morning tasks. He needed the laugh and was glad Alfred was there to give it. Because that night he'd be looking for four people who could be just about anywhere.

* * *

There were two ways things could go when Harvey opened the door to the apartment.

The first of which, being the preferred option, involved Crane still asleep so that Harvey could enter safely and put groceries away. The man shifted said paper bag under his arm to set the other one on the ground so he could reach the door. The other option is that Crane was awake and very likely had a poison of some sort to shove in his face the moment the door opened. Harvey sighed; this is probably why the Joker always tied Crane up when he left.

 _Well, only one way to find out_. Harvey resigned himself to the worse of the two choices and cracked the door open slowly. It creaked loudly and he slid it open. Harvey took a slow look around the apartment and spotted his target. Crane was indeed awake, but apparently non-armed. In fact, nursing a glass of water and standing next to the kitchen counter, he didn't look up for revenge at all. The bottle of aspirin on the counter though hinted he might be a bit irritable. Harvey lifted the bag off the floor and dragged it inside to dump on the table.

Crane could feel Harvey's eyes on him and he turned to look at the man. Two-Face was giving him a suspicious look and was tense. Crane set his glass on the table and snorted. His head hurt way too much to deal with this crap. "What? Are you going to hit me for being quiet now?"

Harvey nearly laughed: Crane was sulking. The man started to drink the water again and Harvey licked his lips. Maybe he actually knocked some sense into the man with the last outburst. "I'm almost surprised you didn't have toxin ready to spray in my face."

"Not enough to waste on your worthless head." Crane muttered into the glass. "But I assure you, if supplies were more abundant you'd already be screaming and trying to tear out your own eyes."

"I'll keep that in mind if we ever get more than the bare essentials." Harvey shook his head and started to remove the scarf, hat and bandages that covered his face. He could see Crane look away almost petulantly and almost snickered. "I got groceries."

"I can see that."

Harvey rolled his eye and started to unload the contents of the bags onto the table. He had to admit, the 'silent treatment' was not a tactic he expected the Scarecrow to pull. _Might as well enjoy it while it lasts._ Harvey set the bread next to the jams and lunch meats before pulling out the fruit.

"You bought Earl Grey?" Crane picked up the box of instant tea after it was set on the table and inspected the label.

Harvey looked over from stuffing a box of cereal into the cabinet. "Yeah, you like it, right? You always had it down on the grocery list Joker would use to order."

"I'm surprised you remembered something like that." Crane muttered and set the box down on the table. He noted the small case of sugar next to the milk and refused to believe Harvey had purchased them also knowing how Crane liked to drink his tea.

"Remembering little details about people is what I'm good at." Harvey crooked a tiny smirk. "How do you think I got to be Gotham's DA?"

"Considering what city this is, I'm not quite sure that's the best way to phrase that question." Crane smiled and walked over to the bag. He was still mad at Harvey for well, assaulting him, but in a physical fight he couldn't do much and he really didn't have enough toxin to spare for him. Besides, the thought of a nice cup of Earl Grey before bed put him in a good mood. Crane used a finger to tip the second, still full bag, towards him. "Did you get eggs?"

"Yeah." Harvey folded the first empty bag flat and set it on the counter. "A dozen I think. I grabbed it rather quickly."

"I think I'm going to make an egg sandwich." Crane lifted the egg carton out of the bag and reached for the bread. Harvey lifted an eyebrow at him and he sighed. His voice was very strained when he replied. "Would you like one?"

"Yes, please." Harvey couldn't help but snicker as Crane glared. You'd never guess they had tried to kill each other at least three times in the past day and a half.

Crane rolled his eyes as he dug out a pan. When he set it on the stove he looked over at Harvey who was now opening a newspaper and reading. Even with the bad side of his face as the visible half, he resembled a nine-to-fiver in the morning waiting on his wife for breakfast. Scarecrow looked down at himself cracking the egg on the side of the pan and nearly groaned. _Well aren't we domestic? Ha, or maybe domestic abuse was more appropriate?_

"Damn." Harvey muttered while Crane chuckled oddly to himself next to the stove. "Joker broke out of Arkham."

"We knew that." Crane rolled his eyes. "It's why we've been enjoying each other's company so closely."

"No, I mean, again." Harvey threw the paper on the table. "One of the doctor's broke him out right after Batman dragged him in."

"Which one?" Crane wanted to go see for himself, but he'd already dropped the egg into the pan. Having the egg turn out like Harvey's face wasn't an option even if he was curious. Who could it be? The rest of the staff seemed so level headed. Even Leland was tolerable. Well, it couldn't possibly have been Leland. She hated the Joker.

"Uh, some intern, a Harleen Quinzel." Harvey looked up when he heard the spatula scrape the ban loudly. Crane looked like he was ready to beat someone with it; he hoped the eggs didn't burn just because he was shocked. "Know her?"

Crane resumed his cooking with a little more force than necessary. "Take a guess."

"Things are going to get even more interesting aren't they?"

"Oh you have no idea."

* * *

"Daddy's home!" Joker called out as he busted down the door to his lovely hide-away, Harley trailing behind him in a trench coat to hide her costume from the regular patrons of the establishment. She had taken her headpiece off, which made Joker a tad sad, but he wanted to see his boys so the offense slid. "Hello! Don't cha' wanna' give me a hug?"

Harley stepped inside the very nice apartment complex and looked around. It was rather quiet and a lot cleaner than she was expecting. Joker had trashed the hotel they had stayed at the night before so she didn't think he'd treat his own apartment any different. "Uh, the place is empty. Why are we here again?"

Joker pouted. That slim, miniscule chance, his buddies had stayed in their hideout was almost nil, but he could have hoped. Joker walked into the bedroom and saw the suitcase they used from the last move missing. Though, aside from that the place was still spotless. Leave it to Scarecrow to make a break-neck run from an apartment and still leave it spotless. "Looks like my little bird flew the coop."

"Bird?"

"Yeah, my crow." Joker kicked the bed and shrugged off the clothes he had stolen off that guy in the park on their way to a hotel to spend the night and get uh, better acquainted before introducing the lady to his friends. Joker lifted the lid of the box they had been keeping the money in and realized that a good chunk was missing, but most of it was still there. How considerate.

Didn't mean he wasn't going to break Scarecrow's fingers for running away, but that was for another time.

"Well, why don't you look around while I change into something more comfortable, Harley-girl."

"Okay, Puddin.'" Harley hummed as she waltzed around the empty kitchen. There was a fine layer of dust settled around everything so it wasn't as clean as it looked. But that also meant no one had been here for a while. Though, she still didn't know what it was that Mr. J saw in that idiot Crane. The man was stuck up, annoying and good for nothing. Sure he had a fancy degree that he got from graduating early - but where did it get him? Fired from the job he loved and thrown in a loony bin. Yeah, something of value that Crane.

Moments later, Joker burst from his bedroom, fully clothed and make-up applied. Back in his skin, Joker was more than ready to go hunt down his lost pets. "Put your face on Harley-girl. We've gotta' locate us a couple of strays."

"Ah, do we have to Puddin'? Don't 'cha just want to spend a little more time alone together before we make this a group?"

"Nope. I gave ya' a day and that's a day too much, doll." Joker took a moment to look in the mirror to check out his make-up. He smudged a section of his eyeliner back into shape and straightened his coat. "I have some business with Scarecrow and his little friend."

"There's someone else?"

"Oh yeah, didn't tell ya' about the other one." Joker giggled. "It'll be a surprise."

"Yay! I love surprises." Harley did a little twirl. As long as it wouldn't be just her, Puddin' and the idiot - she might be able to tolerate Crane's presence.

"Where do you think they are?"

"No clue, but if we go out lookin' I'm sure we'll find um. They're not hard to miss. Like Beauty and the Beast, they are."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind, Harley-girl. You'll know what I mean when I see 'um."

"Okay..." Harley shrugged and followed after the Joker once he exited the apartment and locked the door. Crane or no Crane, Harley was with her Mr. J and for right now, that was all that mattered. "Hey Puddin' wanna' make-out in the car real quick before we go?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite things about movie Crane is his height. He's so short compared to the 6 feet something Cranes of the comics. Makes him cuter, I think. Thanks for reading and reviewing! You all make me so happy!

"So how much toxin do you have exactly?" Harvey asked as he sat in the lab with Crane. Sometimes he was thankful they both suffered from mood swings. It made recovering from their frequent fights and yelling sessions much easier. "You said not enough to waste on me, but for all I know you were lying."

"Enough to defend ourselves if we need it and maybe pull off one more gambling heist." Crane muttered as he started to take a catalog of his items, half-listening to Dent. It wasn't as if he had misjudged how much materials he had when he was making the powder bombs, he had just gotten enthusiastic. That was it. Enthusiastic and made more than he had planned. "It should be enough assuming we don't squander it."

Harvey nodded and looked in the corner of a stack of materials that Crane hadn't really touched since they got there. It had even collected a small layer of dust. "What are those?"

"Hmm?" Crane turned around to look where Harvey was pointed and rolled his eyes. "A last resort. It's a few doses of Joker's laughing gas."

"Laughing gas?"

"Oh, right." Crane sat up and removed his safety goggles. He was sick of taking inventory already. Always the more boring part of the job. "I forgot he basically stopped using it once we picked you up. I swear that man has the attention span of a gnat."

Crane needed to do something about switching subjects in the middle of conversations. The man still hadn't answered the question. "And it is?"

"I take it they didn't let you read the news where ever they were keeping you." This was such old news. It must be depressing to be so out of the loop.

"No, not really." _Obviously._ Harvey snorted to himself and pulled out his coin. He started to rub it with his thumb before slowly following into his habit of flipping it in the air. The little metallic whistle it made was so soothing to the ear.

"Ah, well it was all over the news. It's a really hideous concoction and while I do share a bit of pride in creating it, I rather dislike it as well. Far too brutal for my tastes." Crane muttered and turned back to his papers. He really did need to finish this didn't he?

Harvey sighed exasperatedly. "What," He took a steady breath. "Does it do?"

"It makes them laugh until they suffocate and then it freezes a smile on their face. It appears to be rather painful." Crane answered blandly while looking through papers.

"And you made that because?"

"The Joker made me do it. It's not like I chose to do such a thing."

Harvey just nodded and let the room fade back into silence save for the scratching of Crane's pencil. The man had zoned him out and Harvey had learned from experience that eventually Crane would just stop replying as he dug into his work. Harvey stood up and headed for the living room. Maybe he'd take a nap.

* * *

"It's a quiet night, isn't it?" Gordon sighed as he hung out on the roof of the Gotham Police Station. The Bat Signal was still broken in the corner; no one wanting to really take it away. Batman had been sitting on the building ledge for maybe a moment or two. They met like this once a week. If anyone knew about it, they were keeping quiet. "Almost too quiet."

Bruce nodded as his cape fluttered softly in the wind. He appreciated these quiet moments with Gordon where he could just be Batman without having to worry about people screaming. "With three Arkham escapees, it's hard to believe that there's no crime going on."

"I can see how those three out would scare lesser criminals back into their holes for fear of running into them, but those three themselves not appearing seems odd." Gordon almost laughed. While he appreciated the drop in crime, the fact it was due to three psychopaths running around did a good job of eliminating any comfort he took from it.

"It's like they're planning something."

"Individually I hope. We've already seen what one team-up can accomplish. We're luck to have figured out a formula to counteract the drug." Gordon fell back against the wall of the building stairs and sipped at his coffee.

"Has it begun distribution?"

"Yes." Gordon shook his head. "I just hope they don't find out about it and adjust the drug."

"Well, I guess I should do my job and make sure to find them before that happens."

"Good luck." Gordon waved as the man disappeared off the roof. Gotham was a big city with thousands of nooks and crannies for a rat to scurry into and disappear. He wished the Batman as much luck as he could give him.

* * *

Now he was just messing with her.

Leland glared at the blue rose in her and hand frowned. Guy broke out of Arkham with Harley just to break in a few days later to give her a rose that said "Hey! Having trouble finding Scarecrow so I haven't said 'hi' yet, but don't worry. I will." ? What sort of person did that? Leland sighed and set the flower on the desk. She was too tired to be angry.

And while she didn't want to admit it to keep from worrying the other doctors, she was fairly anxious about Harley as well. Leland should have fought harder to keep her away from the Joker's case. Shouldn't have let this happen. She picked the rose up again. Blue was her favorite color and she couldn't help but wonder if the Joker knew that or was just messing with her. It seems she needed more sleep than she thought with her mind being so sporadic tonight.

Leland jumped when her window opened with a loud bang as the metal hit metal. "Who's there?"

"Don't be frightened. I just have a few questions." Bruce tried to rasp as quietly as possible. He was still wanted for murder, but he needed information. He hadn't expected anyone to be in Leland's office at this hour of the night. But since it appeared to be Leland herself he might as well ask. "Concerning the Joker and Dr. Quinzel."

"What do you want with them?" Leland spoke quietly. This man killed five people and was as insane as half of her in-mates. Best not to make any sudden movements.

"Listen, I know that you have no reason to trust me. But all I want is to make sure Dr. Quinzel is returned safely." Batman looked at the rose on the desk and saw the tag marked 'J.' If he got that, he might be able to check the paper or flower for trace that might lead him to the mad man. "Is that from him?"

"If it is, I'm not giving it to you." Leland straightened her back and pointed to the window. "Now get out of my office."

"Fine." Batman backed up slowly. It would not help things if this woman thought he was violent. She spoke with enough authority that arguing or pleading his case would just cause a scene that he did not need. "But, if you hear anything, I would appreciate it if you let me know."

"No, now get out." Leland kept the shaking in her legs as invisible as possible. Show no fear; that was how it worked in dealing with her patients and how it would work now.

Batman disappeared out the window long enough to hear it slammed shut behind him. Knowing his luck she was already calling the police. So much for getting any information out of Arkham tonight. Batman leapt from the fire escape of the building and into the alley to make a run for the Tumbler. He really hoped Alfred was making something good for breakfast tomorrow morning. At least one thing needed to go right for him after all this mess.

* * *

Harvey hated laundry day. Crane being the OCD little neat freak that he was, insisted on doing all of the laundry at one time for the both of them. And since Crane refused to re-wear an outfit, he did laundry once every five days (as he had five pairs of clothes). And on said fifth day, he made Harvey strip down to his boxers and threw his two pairs of clothes into washer with the rest of it. Something about Harvey's horrid smell and having absolutely no sense.

"You'd think you actually liked that double colored suit Joker had made for you." Crane had sneered while adding the detergent. "I can't believe you only grabbed that one extra outfit to wear to the store."

"It's all I need."

"Yeah, tell that to my nose."

Needless to say, Harvey had just shut up and let the man have the clothes. And when he thought about it, he couldn't really blame a guy as obsessed with his hygiene as Crane to NOT take advantage of being able to do laundry. Harvey couldn't actually remember one time that the Joker had let them clean their clothes while in the old apartment. Or maybe Crane was just completely against the idea of walking around in his skivvies around the Joker. Either option was completely plausible. Harvey wouldn't' admit it, but having clean clothes once in a while was rather nice.

Maybe laundry day wasn't quite as horrible as he had thought. Clean clothes and he didn't even have to wash them!

So now, they were sitting around, Harvey once again dressed down to his boxers and Crane in a white tank and his own plaid boxers. It was times like this Harvey was glad that the heater worked, though a cool breeze might have been nice. Harvey was currently reading the newspaper while Crane was fiddling about in the kitchen. Considering they were still running from the clown and Batman, it was a rather pleasant and relaxed afternoon. Even the radio was talking to them quietly in the corner.

The peace almost lasted the entire afternoon.

"Did you have to put that up on the top shelf?" Crane glared at Harvey as he pointed to the box of cereal a good two feet above the top of his extended arm. "I can't reach it."

Harvey snorted with a laugh as he watched Crane standing next to the counter with his finger in the air aimed at the cereal box like a laser sight. He hadn't been thinking about Crane's height when he put the groceries away. The bottom shelves were just full. "Why don't you just climb on the counter? It's what most short people do."

Crane scowled. "Fine, don't help." The man grabbed the edge of the counter and lifted. He hadn't climbed on a counter to reach shelf since was a college student and his roommates hid his text books in the pantry. He got his bony knees up onto the high surface and steadied himself by holding the shelves. This wasn't so bad. He wobbled a little bit due to the thin width of the counter and how far the shelves jutted out. He had to lean back a bit just to see where the cereal box was.

Harvey stood up and walked into the kitchen. He had no desire to clean up Crane's brains when the man fell and smacked his head on the ground. "I was being sarcastic, you know."

"Fine time to mention it now." Crane rolled his eyes and pulled the box down on the counter. He started to shut the cabinet and turned towards Harvey so that he could climb back down. "And anyway, apparently I was foolish to even ask for your help because I clearly did not need-"

Harvey saw him slip on the small spill of water from the sink before Crane did and cursed out loud when the man crashed into him and they both hit the floor with a loud smack. Harvey was sure he saw stars and felt something warm underneath him. "Ow..."

"What the hell did I slip on?" Crane held his head with one hand and pushed at Harvey with the other, who had somehow twisted on top of him during the fall. The man was heavy. "Get off of me."

"I will, just give me a second...I think I hit my head on the tile." Harvey tried to blink and clear his vision. There was a small drip of something falling down his face; had he cracked open the area where the burnt flesh met the whole?

"I don't care about your concussion, get off." Crane lifted his arms up to push at Dent, but he didn't seem to budge. Curse his small stature and rake thin arms! Harvey only managed to lean up a little and put a hand to the tile, but otherwise didn't move. Crane hissed at him and kicked his leg up a bit. "I mean it, get the hell-"

"Well, I uh, was worried about tellin' his Highness there that he'd be sleepin' with Harvey from now on, but that uh, looks like that won't be an issue."

Both Harvey and Crane stilled immediately at the new voice. Scarecrow leant his head back and almost cried right there on the spot. Harvey looking up, vision now cleared and well, he just scowled at the clown and strange girl hiding behind him.

"Wow, Professor Crane. Ya' shoulda' brought up you were gay in our sessions. Might'a helped."

"Now, now, Harvey girl. Don't make fun of them expressin' their feelings for one another."

"Sorry Mr. J!"

"Dent." Crane's voice cracked.

"Yeah?"

"May I borrow your coin?"

Harvey kept his eyes on the clown, still frozen in place on the off chance a sudden movement might set the freak off. "Why?"

"I'm trying to decide between eating a bullet and hanging myself. The latter is more fitting to my costume, but the first one would leave a delightfully gory mess."

Harley giggled.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. Chapter. Short, but it's done. Take it. XD (Oh, and thanks for reading and reviewing!)

"I ain't gonna' lie, this is not what I was expecting." Joker hummed as he looked down at the two on the floor. Dressed down to their underwear, sweaty and getting ready to do it in the kitchen. His pets were kinky as hell. He honestly didn't think his Scarecrow was so much of a slut...then again, Harvey was big with the ladies. Maybe he jumped the straw man. Yeah, that made more sense...but on the other hand, pickin' on his little queen was more fun. "Why didn't ya' ever get that cuddly with me, Highness?"

"I don't like you!" Crane snarled and smacked at Harvey again. Did the man just not take a hint? "And we are not cuddling!"

"Fine, groping or whatever it is you two are doing. But that hurts, it really does." Joker tilted his head when Harvey shoved himself off of Scarecrow and rubbed his arm. Two-Face looked guilty and ashamed about something. "Or maybe Harvey was the aggressor?"

"Shut up." The reply was clipped and Two-Face shoved the instinct to help Crane off the floor to the back of his mind.

"Ah well, at least now you two can shack up without worry." Joker paused and rubbed his tongue along his gums. Wasn't he supposed to be mad at them? He couldn't remember why. Something about seeing his Highness and Harvey practically necking sort of did that to ya.' "Though I am kinda' upset it's so easy to move ya' to another room. One would think ya' didn't like sleeping with me, uh, Highness."

"Because I don't!"

"Huh?" Harley blinked and turned to her Puddin'. What was he talking about? Sleeping with Crane? There was no way! "What are ya' talking about?"

"Oh, me and his highness have been shackin' up since we first met." Joker shrugged. "I figured you two wouldn't want ta' um, share so I'm bunkin' him with Harvey. Goodness knows he don't like to sleep alone. I even had ta' come visit him in Arkham to make sure he slept okay."

Crane was mortified. How dare that jerk insinuate that the great Scarecrow needed a security blanket! "Why you bastard!"

"What? I'm just tellin' the little lady the truth."

Harley was sure her brain had just shut down. She knew the Joker was sure to have had other lovers than herself, but he had hooked up with, with, _him?_ It was too horrible a thought to even linger on. That in mind, Harley made note to make sure Crane and her Puddin' never came within two feet of each other. Jonathan Crane would not be having sex with her man again. Ever. "You were right, Puddin'. Sharing with him just won't work."

"For once, Ms. Quinzel, we agree." Crane straightened his wife beater and longed to hear the buzzer of his dryer. He wanted his clothes back.

"Ah, now don't tell me ya' didn't like it!"

"I didn't for the last time. Stop repeating yourself." Crane snarled and ran his nails through his hair roughly. "You were always so damn clingy! You just couldn't understand the concept of staying on your own side of the bed!"

"Um, before those goes any further." Harvey interrupted. He felt like a record again. Three minutes in with the Joker and they were already repeating themselves like a wash cycle. Bicker, fight, interrupt, change subject. Just like usual. It was all just so monotonous. At least when it was just him and Crane, they had different stuff to fight about every day. "But who is she?"

"Oh! That's right, Harvey. You haven't met before." Joker cleared his throat and gave a bow. Harley posed appropriately. Damn he trained this one well. "This is my new Hench Wench, Harley Quinn."

"Pleasure ta' meet ya, Mr.?"

"Two-Face."

"You're getting fond of that name." Crane snorted and crossed his arms.

"It suits better now than it did when I was in the force." Harvey shrugged. "Besides, 'Harvey Dent' just doesn't sound all that intimidating."

"Since when have you wanted to be intimidatin-"

"Well, either way we've all been introduced." Joker grinned when Scarecrow scowled at being interrupted yet again. After a moment basking in the fury practically radiating off his queen, he rubbed his hands together and looked around the apartment. "Pack your things, boys. We're going back home. This place is way too small for the four of us and that's where I left all the money."

"Who says we're going with you?" Crane snorted and crossed his arms next to Harvey. He didn't want to admit it, but this whole storm Gotham Precent thing they had been working on before they started cowering in fear was something he was interested in. Revenge on the police? Get his name back with some respect and away from the laughing gas? He could hardly pass that up. "We're fine right were we are. You take her with you and leave."

"Ah, no. That's not going to uh, fly, my dear, and you wanna know why? Because I said so, that's why. Be happy I'm letting you two pack your stuff." Joker clapped his hands together like he was herding a couple of puppies. "Let's go before I make you walk back to the old place in your underwear or something equally creative but far more painful."

"I think-" Crane felt a hand clasp over his mouth from behind him. He glanced to the side to see Harvey close to his back, effectively trapping him with the the one arm around his shoulder.

"Can we at least wait for the clothes to finish in the laundry?"

"Sure." Joker shrugged and walked around to crash in the living room. Looks like Scarecrow really was Harvey's new bitch. Go figure; guy was even protecting him from himself. Joker wasn't sure if he liked that or not. "Come on Harley-girl, let's see what else around here we can steal to spruce up the new place.

Crane was struggling at this point against his arm, but Harvey kept his grip. This was not the time or place for Scarecrow to lose his temper and piss the Joker off. This was going to take a little more politics to get Joker to _let_ them leave. And well, Harvey hadn't been the DA for nothing. "Ouch!" Crane bit him.

Scarecrow had regretted the biting maneuver instantly when he felt that hit to the back of the neck and the room when black. Again.

* * *

"Are those gambling tickets? How many do you have?"

"One from every major gambling even in Gotham, Master Wayne. My game rigger hasn't struck in a while, so I figure I must just be missing the event. This way I can keep tabs on all of them."

Bruce picked up a ticket by the edge. "Well, that's one thing to do with your expendable cash, Alfred."

"Oh hush." Alfred smirked. "I have to do something in all my glorious free time."

"You have free time? I must not be working you hard enough."

"Do not test me, Master Bruce. I know where you sleep."

"Speaking, that's where I'm headed." Bruce shook his head. Another night of patrolling and yet another night of loose ends. How the hell was Joker managing to keep such a low profile? It just didn't make any sense. "Good luck."

"Good night, Master Wayne. Have a good rest." Alfred nodded. As his boy headed off and disappeared behind the stairs, the old butler spread the tickets out. He had fifteen guaranteed winners, and fifteen low bids on the guaranteed losers. Either way he was going to get a little closer to more information on his perk, while also making a little money. Not that he needed it - but really. If you're going to play, you should play to win.

* * *

The world was rocking.

Jonathan's eyes moved slightly behind his eyelids. He was against something solid and warm, but his head was hanging freely and swinging slightly. Crane could feel his arms also hanging freely, but again, they were draped against something solid, warm and well, not all that uncomfortable. He could hear the standard city night noises and footsteps echoing against the walls. The air smelled of wet pavement and it made Crane scrunch his nose. However, there was only so much information he could gather without the sense of sight.

He opened his eyes very slowly and realized he was staring at a dark sidewalk moving underneath him. That at least confirmed he was outside the apartment and on a city street. There was a coat hanging off his arm, but he didn't feel anything under it. So, he was being carried and dressed only in a coat. Something scratched against the side of his face and he realized it was burnt flesh when his eyes slid to the side. He couldn't stop the shiver that went down his spine. Man he was creepy. "Harvey?"

"Stop moving, it hurts my face." Harvey grunted as he adjusted the man on his back. Crane didn't weight very much, but he still might drop him if the man started to move. At least Joker and Harley were carrying the luggage.

Crane huffed as he felt himself be moved into a more comfortable position on Harvey's back. "Then why isn't my head slung over the other side?"

"Joker's being an ass."

"Oh." That was enough of an explanation. Crane pulled himself up and realized he was being piggy backed by the taller man. His head hurt too much to struggle at the moment so he just let himself be carried. Joker was leading in front with Harley (still in that ridiculous costume) skipping alongside him. And for some reason they were carrying his suitcase; Crane feared for the chemicals and made note to have someone else open the case. Who knows what got mixed up during all that shaking? "We need to work on this whole knocking me out thing. It's starting to piss me off."

"Yeah, well this time it might have saved you another broken leg." Harvey looked at the cast and lifted an eyebrow. The thing was starting to tear around the edges from a lack of care and an inability to keep the thing completely dry in Crane's daily showers. "Speaking, when the hell do you get that thing off?"

"No clue. I don't exactly have access to an x-ray you know." Crane huffed and leant his elbow on Harvey's shoulder to hold his head up. "I take it we're going back to the old two room apartment?"

"Yup."

"Fun."

"Oh! Is His Highness awake?" Joker flipped around and started walking backwards under the dark sky. "Don't you two just look precious? Aren't they Harley-girl?"

"Darlin' Mr. J." Harley giggled. Crane was absolutely miserable being carried around like that. She couldn't help but smile. "I just hope they can keep it to themselves back in the apartment."

"Ah, really? I uh, don't mind watchin' if they wanna keep going."

"I'm going to kill him." Crane muttered while gripping Harvey's shoulders. Somewhere in the back of his head Crane knew he should get down and walk, but common sense just didn't seem to be his friend today. Scarecrow continued to snarl at Harvey instead. "Please tell me you had a good reason for not telling him to shove off back in the other place?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Fine, be secretive."

"Are you planning on getting down and walking any time soon?"

"No."

"I hate you."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Lauralot. Because I blame the entire last scene on her. XD

Something was different between Highness and Harvey.

Joker licked his lips as he stared at the two sitting on the couch watching the boob tube. For starters, they were sitting next to each other. Now, he knew that they were possibly screwing each other thanks to the little hand caught in the cookie jar kitchen incident, but that didn't mean shit. People who hated each other could have sex if only to have something to do. It looked like his little pets had been hiding out for a while and it's natural that urges might take over. Especially with Harvey considering that guy seemed addicted to relationships.

It was no wonder he was developing a separate personality, Harvey was the type who couldn't stand to be alone.

But looking at those two now? More had changed between them than possible screwing beneath the sheets. Besides, the close proximity of course. It was in the way they shared looks of the eyes and talked quietly. And those tiny little smirks and smiles. The longing looks that Harvey sent towards Scarecrow when he wasn't looking didn't hurt to reinforce his theory that something was up either.

Joker narrowed his eyes; and in the new scratch on Harvey's coin. Highness put it there. Had to have. Harvey wouldn't have marred that coin of his own volition. Unless he flipped for it, or something. Joker twitched the corner of his mouth as Harley girl snuggled into his side on the love seat. Two-Face was sitting almost as close to the Queen. Joker felt the twitch before it happened and rubbed his lip fiercely.

Harvey was acting like a big old watch dog. That's what it was. Joker sniffed and rubbed his nose with a nervous twitch as his brain pieced together the little bits of the puzzle. That's what Harvey Two-Face was doing with all the closeness and secret looks and quiet chats. He was watching out for Joker's little Scarecrow in ways such as developing a nasty habit of covering Highness' mouth whenever he was about to say something stupid or threatening to knock him out. All in all it was really starting to ruin his fun.

"Somethin' the matter puddin'?" Harley spoke up as her Mr. J tensed and relaxed over and over like some sort of breathing machine that inhaled and exhaled air. "You're looking a little under."

"Nothing's the matter, Harley girl. Just thinking about what we're going to do with our time. We've been getting all comfy and quiet and it's making me edgy."

"Well, maybe we could do something fun." Harley placed a delicate finger on her chin. "Got anything in mind?"

"Not sure yet, Harley doll." Joker licked his lips and stood up. "How about you fellas? Any ideas to alleviate the, uh, growing boredom?"

Crane kept his mouth shut.

Despite what many would say, Dr. Jonathan Crane was by no means an idiot. Even he could take the hint that every time he spoke to the Joker Harvey would hit him. Or cover his mouth. Or some other brutish method to make sure dear Dr. Crane's mouth didn't somehow inadvertently anger the clown. And well, since Jonathan had nothing nice to say to the Joker anyway, the good old Scarecrow kept his mouth shut and merely glared.

Harvey lifted the one eyebrow he had left and shrugged before turning on the television.

Crane crossed his arms and stared down at his leg _still_ entrapped in a cast. It really wasn't fair.

"I don't uh, hear any suggestions. Surely you two have been up to something in the past few weeks?"

"Not much." Harvey smiled and started to rub some of the dead skin on his burnt hand. Amazing how some of it was _still_ flaking off. "Watched some television, twiddled with some chemicals, went to the grocery store and other things like that. Nothing special."

"I get it, I get it. You two were all cute and domestic." Joker rolled his eyes and walked over to one of Harvey's bags. He propped a foot on the edge of a square suitcase he didn't remember them having before. One with a pretty little lock. He nudged it with his foot. "But that still doesn't uh, explain these."

Harvey congratulated himself for keeping his face wiped of emotion when Joker kicked the latches of the case and it spilled open revealing three or four hand guns Harvey and Crane had secured for their little run on the Gotham Police. Joker kicked the case again and the box of ammo that had been hastily thrown into the case spilled out over the floor, the shells making little clinks and whines as they hit the wood floor. "A man can't be a man in Gotham without a gun, now can he?" Harvey smirked. "And I assure you, they're American made."

"You'll forgive me if I don't believe you. It'd be uh, one thing if you had one gun each for some sort of protection." Joker paused. "But then it'd be only one because uh, guns don't really suit his Highness over there. So it'd be, one, gun."

Harvey's eye twitched slightly to the side and Crane was getting an evil little smile on his face. Clearly someone was amused at Two-Face being put under the spotlight. Harvey just prayed the little snit would keep his mouth shut. Two-Face's vengeance against the police was none of Joker's business. "Maybe I like to have options."

"Or an excuse to flip your little coin. I could buy that, I could." Joker smirked and licked his lips. Harvey had a secret; he could tell from the man's eyes. Joker nearly giggled. "But uh, then there'd be two."

"And you's two got five!" Harley interjected from the love seat head sitting in her hands while she sprawled out. Her legs tapped each other absently as she giggled.

"Yes." Joker frowned. He hated being interrupted but now wasn't the time. Harley was an irritant but she had her uses. For now, he had other things to deal with. "As Harley-girl just pointed out, you've got more than enough for self protection. Now maybe you could explain, while I still have my patience about me of course, why you need so many guns and little bullets uh," Joker nudged a fallen shell. "Rolling about."

"I already told you."

"And you, uh, lied to me Harvey-boy. You're a lawyer though, so it's probably second nature for ya and you just can't help it. I'll just have to ask his Highness over there. Scarecrow's are horrible liars after all. Don't have the brain power to tell anything other than the truth."

"Why you bastard." Screw Harvey and his intervention! Jonathan Crane would not be called an idiot and let it stand!

"Hush." Joker glared strong enough to make the Scarecrow swallow his next word. "Unless you want to tell me what the guns are for, alright Your Majesty? Come now, it's not like a Queen to stay silent."

"Princess." Harvey suddenly blurted out.

"Excuse me?" Joker turned over to Harvey and paused. The roots of his hair were suddenly starting to itch; a good sign that a little confusion might be seeping into his brain.

"Crane. He's not a Queen. He's more like a Princess." Harvey could feel the heat coming from an increasingly flustered Jonathan Crane, but he didn't care. You couldn't win an argument with the Joker without it ending in violence. But you could distract him and make him forget what he was talking about. "So if you have to call him some senseless nickname, you should call him Princess."

"What is the matter with you?" Scarecrow smacked Harvey's side. "Don't encourage this madness!"

"His name, Harvey, is the Queen of England." Joker paused momentarily. "Or His Highness. The joke doesn't make any sense if you call him a 'Princess.'" The Joker put air quotes around the word 'princess' as if to emphasize how idiotic Harvey was sounding right now.

Harvey pressed forward. "Princess suits him more. He's like a spoiled brat waiting for people to obey him and getting angry when they don't. Queen's take rule and have authority." Harvey smiled. "He's a Princess."

"Now you listen right here!" Joker stepped towards Harvey with his hand in accusatory finger point. The case of guns forgotten. "His nickname is 'Queen' and no one gets to call my little Scarecrow that but me!"

"Fine, I'll call him Princess. Just to remind you that yours is insufficient."

This was ulcer inducing. Migraine inducing. Any stress related malady inducing. Crane had no other words to describe the fire that was burning in his chest and head and every part of his body that he felt at the indignity of these two imbecilic morons arguing over what female member of royalty he should be called. Scarecrow had never wanted to kill two people more in his life. Harley laughing her head off in the corner at Harvey and Joker now arguing as if they were in a court of law did not help the matters either.

How did this argument even get started? Crane bit his lip unsure of how to make his presence known yet again as he was ignored. Joker was trying to interrogate them into explaining why they had ammunitions stored away and then Harvey starts up with this princess nonsense...oh. Scarecrow nearly rolled his eyes.

Distraction tactic.

Now on the same wavelength as his extempore partner, Crane's anger subsided about as much as a tide from the bay. Not as close to the shore, but still very much moving and crashing waves against the unstable sand. Harvey didn't want the Joker in on his decision to attack the GPD and establish himself as the newest mob boss in Gotham. Not that Crane blamed him, but really, couldn't he have thought of something better to distract the Joker with?

"He's not a Princess! That's not funny!" Joker screamed.

"Joke's old, Joker." Harvey with a grin that could have hunted down a snark. "Time for something new."

"You're just spinning off my joke. And badly I might add." Joker snarled. "I know exactly what His Highness is and better than you."

"Are you sure? Last time I checked he willingly stayed with me for a few weeks. Didn't you have to chain him to things?" Harvey was pushing things now, but dammit he was angry and tired and there was this voice in his head that was screaming at him to take the Joker down a peg. To hurt him. "I think at the end of the day I know him better and he prefers my company to yours. What do you think of that?"

And the challenge was made. Silence hung over the room as the Joker's face twisted into a calm, ugly face. Anger had silenced him and it could only be moments before his volcano of a temper erupted and took them all out.

Scarecrow hated to admit that he was an object of possession, but right now he was. Not that he was sure how he ended up being the point of affection for an insane lunatic and a very lonely man with attachment issues, but he was there. Perfect, Crane needed a distraction for the distraction before things turned ugly. And with four loaded handguns sitting on the floor, they couldn't afford for things to get ugly.

Harley's stomach growled.

All three turned towards her as she giggled nervously. "Uh, sorry boys. Guess I'm a little hungry. We haven't eaten today, aren't you boys hungry? Maybe that's why everyone's so grumpy."

Joker rubbed the back of his head and chewed on the inside of his cheek. The dramatic tension had been ruined so there wasn't much of a point to continue. He took a side look at Harvey and the surprisingly silent Scarecrow before spying a bullet on the floor. Ah yes, the gun case. Looks like he'd have his work cut out for him digging secrets from his two little pets. He'd have time for that later. "Right you are, Harley-girl!" Joker smacked his hands together. "Let's get something to eat."

"Yay! Let's go pick something up, okay Puddin?"

"I can do that." Joker turned to regard the troublemakers. "You two behave now while Mommy and Daddy are out. No having sex on the furniture."

"JO-" Crane was cut off by Harvey's hand on his mouth. He considered biting it.

"I mean it." With a laugh Joker headed out the door after Harley as she skipped along, almost oblivious to the tension previously in the room.

* * *

"So what was that about?" Crane growled at Harvey as soon as the door shut.

Harvey shrugged but smiled inside. Crane really was a woman, what with his hands on his hips and all that. "I don't want him in on my plans. He's a loose canon and can seriously screw things up." Harvey walked over to the gun case and clicked it closed again after putting the weapons back in it. He wasn't going to _hide_ the case, per-say, but if it was out of sight Joker was less likely to bring it up again.

"I know that you idiot!" Scarecrow took his hands from his hips and gripped them tightly into fists. "You act like I would have told him. I want to know what that princess stuff was all about! Couldn't you have thought of anything else?"

"Nope, first thing that came to mind. And it's true you know," Harvey smirked and dropped his back against the door. He started flipping his coin in the air and tried not to adore the whistling sound as it spun. "You are a princess."

"Thin ice."

"I'm so scared." Harvey picked himself up from the door and walked to his and Crane's room picking up the gun case as he went. He shoved the case under the bed with a tap of his foot. It was an obvious hiding place; Joker would never look there. He paused suddenly and could feel the wicked grin spreading on the part of his face that could still turn up. He called out over his shoulder "Hey Princess!"

"What?" Crane answered before gasping and covering his mouth. The mortification was too much and his anger had reached the point where he could only sputter as he tried to grasp the motor skills needed to form words through the rage.

"Guess that settles it." Harvey laughed. "Princess it is."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask. Just, please don't ask. Thank-you for reading.

Bruce was positive that had he been paid to be Batman, there was no sum to cover enough to justify the job.

"Batsy! I uh, wasn't expectin' ya." Joker cleared his throat and grunted when he shoved Scarecrow back down to the ground. "Mind uh, waiting five minutes?"

Bruce was tempted to take him up on that offer. Only instead of five minutes, he would turn around and pretend he hadn't found anything. Just walk away as if the lead he had gotten from that bum on the street was just the ramblings of a mad man. Yes. Leaving and curling up in his bed was looking more and more appealing the longer his face twitched at the scene before him.

"I think you broke the Bat Man."

"Shut up, Highness."

"Princess." Two-Face corrected.

Joker grit his teeth together. "Shut. Up. Harvey."

Harley giggled.

Batman backed out of the rather large bay window slowly and stood back on the balcony. This was not how he was planning to find Harvey Dent. The fact a homeless man on the side of the street was ranting about a guy with half his face burnt under a scarf carrying a box of groceries was ludicrous enough. (Though not enough to ignore considering it was his _only_ lead so far looking for the man...) This was just the icing on the cake.

"Seriously, Batsy. Give us uh, five minutes and we'll be ready to welcome you in. Maybe we can make some pancakes. Harvey's really good at that baking stuff. Harley-girl, too."

Batman frowned and took a deep breath. "Does that five minutes include the time it will take for you all to put your clothes back on?"

"Wow, did you hurt your throat trying to say all that in one breath?"

"Shush, Highness. Stop interrupting the adults while they're talking."

"If you get off me, than I will."

"Nah uh, no Harvey snuggles for you today. You're all mine."

"Puddin'~" Harley whined and shook her head, pigtails tossing back and forth. "That's no fair! I want 'ya hugs all to myself."

"Shush, Harley-girl."

Batman sighed and debated throwing a gas grenade in the room. The way everyone was tangled together on the floor it's not like they could dodge or get out of the way. Well, maybe Harvey could considering he was on the top of the pile. Well, he wasn't really a part of it. He and Harley (Batman assumed it was Ms. Quinzel anyway) were off to the sides looking to pull the Scarecrow or Joker apart respectively. In all his years of life and fighting crime, Bruce was fairly certain seeing a naked Joker clinging to a nude Scarecrow was not on his list of things he expected to see. Or ever wanted to see.

The fact Harley and Harvey were dressed down to their underwear did not help things either.

"Would you let go of Princess already? The Batman's right there! We have other things to be concerned about." Harvey snarled and grabbed at the Joker's shoulder. He was surely smothering Jonathan and that was not what they needed when running should be at the forefront of their minds. Well maybe not Joker's mind but that wasn't important.

"What's your rush? Batman's not going anywhere." Joker chuckled and sat up dragging a struggling Scarecrow with him. And Highness thought he could avoid washing his underwear. Silly little field beast. "Care to do laundry with us? I'm sure your suit could use it."

"Laundry?" Bruce lifted an eyebrow. That was it. Batman reached around from behind his belt and took off a tiny clip and tossed it into the room. Harvey cursed and Harley let out a tiny squeal. Joker laughed and Scarecrow groaned as the sleeping gas left the tiny pellet. Batman was only thankful that the scene was so out there and the villains so off guard that it had worked. Four bodies hit the ground swiftly enough and Batman was happy that now his only difficulty would be transporting the four of them back to Arkham.

But really - _laundry?_

* * *

Jonathan had never been so mortified in his life.

He was currently sitting in the back of the batmobile rocking against Harvey dressed in nothing more than his underwear and a blanket. In the front seat sat the Joker with Harley in his lap both giggling quietly. (He wasn't quite sure how that had worked out, being unconscious at the time, but it was obvious Batman regretted the move.) Harvey was still asleep. And drooling. Jonathan tried not to shiver when the man's head came back in his direction from the vehicle moving.

Regardless, having his most hated enemy finding him rolling on the ground and naked while being tackled by an equally naked and determined Joker was something he could never live down. Scarecrow was already a laughing stock thanks to the broken leg he did not need this added to his resume.

Laundry.

Joker wanted to do the laundry as a group. The jealous, vindictive bastard had decided that he was going to catch up on all the activities that Harvey and Jonathan had done while alone together. And that included the group laundry sessions that had stripped Harvey and Jonathan down to their britches. However, the Joker didn't know the meaning of decency or moderation. So, he decided that if they were going to do all the laundry, they were going to do _all_ the laundry. And that included the underwear.

Thus, Joker stripped down to his birthday suit and then tackled Jonathan fully intending to rip off the apparently offending garments. Oh, Harley and Harvey had fought valiantly trying to save him, but they failed. Joker had literally ripped his boxers from his body and tossed them across the room. And just before he could gather his dignity and escape to find a blanket, the Batman had arrived busting in through the bay window in the living room.

A perfect end to a perfect day.

"Can I convince you to just throw me out of the car and hope I break my neck?" Jonathan muttered aloud. "I'm foreseeing a much better ending that way."

"Stop uh, trying to kill yourself Highness. That body doesn't belong to you so you can't do with it what you please."

Harley growled. She hated it when Joker referred to Crane as something that belonged to him. The only body that should belong to Mr. J was hers! However, there were feelings to consider, too. "Yeah! Don't make Mr. J angry!"

"I hate you both."

"Quiet." Batman growled. He needed longer lasting sedatives. They should not have woken up so soon. At least Harvey was still asleep.

"You need to lighten up, Batsy."

"Quiet."

"And a bigger vocabulary."

"Please, please just end it now Bat Man. I'll behave and let you have an easy time of it. Just snap my neck. Something."

"What'd I just tell you!?"

"SILENCE!"

A great quiet settled over the car after Bruce's angry, frightening, outburst. But it was not to last however, as a slight giggling started from Harley. That turned into all out guffawing from the Joker. Scarecrow, however, just buried his face into Harvey's shoulder and apparently tried to will himself back to sleep.

Bruce could not get back to Arkham fast enough.

* * *

Joan stared at the line-up of four at the front of Arkham gate as the Batman sped away in his tank. They were handcuffed (and ankle cuffed, Joan realized as she looked down) and from what she could see from under the blankets in their underwear. All four of them. Joker, Jonathan Crane, Harley Quinzel (or so Joan assumed under all that face paint and pigtails) and Harvey Dent. "Did, did the Batman do this to you all?"

"Yes."

"Shut up, Joker." Scarecrow snarled. "You did this to us and don't even try to deny it."

"Seconded." Harvey muttered and rubbed his coin in his hand behind his back.

"You would." Joker snickered. "Two-Face."

"I will kill you."

"Now now, boys. Let's not fight." Harley smiled. Arkham, an apartment. Didn't matter where she was as long as her Mr. J was around. "Batman just caught us at a bad time, Joan."

"We were doing Laundry."

"May we proceed with check-in, Joan?" Jonathan moaned. "I feel any more time in these two lunatics presence may permanently damage my brain."

"Like it isn't damaged enough already."

"I swear Joker, leave Princess alone."

"I will when you stop hovering like his mommy!"

"All of you quiet!" Joan shouted. "Let's just, get you all inside and sort this out."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Joan didn't get paid enough to deal with this.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot more time to write this week! Hurrah! So here you go – one more chapter and the start of the turning point of the fic where our random partnership switches hands. But no worries – Joker's not out of the picture just yet.
> 
> Thank-you for reading and reviewing!

The cast was off. The cast was off. Oh thank the stars the cast was off.

Earlier humiliations behind him, Jonathan tossed his legs up onto the coffee table in the recreation room and crossed his ankles neatly. He smiled at the too pale skin peaking out from behind the too short uniform pants. It was so nice to not have that garish piece of plaster in the way. The one benefit of being a captive of Arkham once again was the medical care. A proper check-up and he was deemed worthy to get the damn thing off his leg. No more itching; no more stumbling about on crutches; and no more teasing. Not even the Joker would ruin his day.

Not that he could if he wanted to anyway.

Jonathan sighed to himself happily yet again. Joker was in lock-down in the maximum security portion of the asylum. After two break outs in a row (including one break-in to break out again) they decided that he was worthy of a little more attention. As such, it also meant that Mrs. Quinzel was sulking in a corner doing little more than sighing and begging the orderlies to let her visit when they walked by. And as such it put her out of his hair. Jonathan was almost happy to be locked up.

"I didn't think it was possible for the rec room to be as boring as my single cell."

Jonathan looked up as Harvey appeared next to the couch. Both the healthy and damaged portions of his face were bandaged neatly, his hair sticking out from the top. The resemblance reminded the Scarecrow of old mummy horror films. Jonathan couldn't help but wonder if it was more comfortable having his face wrapped or having the damaged flesh exposed to the air. "It is more of a prison than a mental institution. I don't know why you're surprised."

"Cool it Princess. It was just an observation." Harvey snorted and plopped down next to the only friendly face in the crowd. One of the perks of having half your face burnt and a new nick-name meant he could argue for time out of solitary. Well, that and he was willing to cooperate for once. This deal had been offered when he first arrived at Arkham, but he refused and just put up with solitary in the basement. Before the idea of pretending to be someone else disgusted Harvey. But now, he didn't think it was so bad having two-faces to show to the public depending which was more convenient. As long as no one called him 'Dent' and his face was wrapped he could join the others. "Not that anyone could tell looking at you Mr. Happy."

"Forgive me for enjoying my Joker-free time while it lasts." Jonathan reached around for the remote on the couch and stretched out his back after picking it up. He slumped back into his seat and silently mourned the loss of his quiet time. "Heaven knows its not going to last."

Dent smirked under the bandages, twitched his leg a bit. There was a chance Crane wasn't going to go along with this. "It could."

Jonathan slowly turned to look at Dent, that blue eye staring intently at him. Scarecrow narrowed his own eyes; this meant trouble. "And, how would you propose we make that happen?"

Harvey leant in closer to Crane with a slight tilt of the head; lowered his voice. "We get out and build ourselves up before he has a chance to escape. He bothers us again? We kill him."

"Easier said than done." Jonathan tried to scoot farther away. A few of the lesser known criminals were starting to stare at them. It was bad enough the Joker thought he was shacking up with Harvey let alone the rest of Arkham. The last thing Jonathan needed was a conversation with Joan about a non-existent relationship with a man who is supposedly dead. His paperwork was complicated enough as it is. "And since when was there a 'we' between the two of us?"

"Since I decided that we're partners." Harvey flipped his coin. The doctors had tried to take it from him but he threw such a screaming fit they had no choice but to let him keep it before he 'hurt himself.' "Besides, you agreed to help me before so I see no reason why you shouldn't hold up to that."

"If I recall that was a forced hand due to both of us fearing for our lives from Joker." Crane huffed and fingered the remote. He could feel Dent's breath on his neck. The man had no sense of personal space at all. "You're still planning to go through with it then?"

"Of course." The coin continued to flip in his hand. "This little trip back to Arkham is just a set back."

Jonathan snorted. "I hope you're not planning to discuss your little revenge plans right here and now with all the orderlies flitting about."

Harvey chuckled and caught his coin in a fist. Off to the left he could see Harley pawing at once of the nurses who had gotten too close about visiting rights. Poor souls. "I doubt if they even notice."

"True." Jonathan muttered thoughtfully and flicked the channel on the television. There was nothing good on during the middle of the day. "But still a bit of a risk."

"Then we'll just have to find somewhere more private to chat."

Jonathan looked around the room and the locks on all the doors. It was doable to sneak into a back area or the like, but they'd still more likely than not be caught. "Like where?"

"Like outside."

Jonathan flipped the channel again with almost a flinch. It seems Dent was really serious about this escaping thing. Partnership or not; quiet time or not. That might be something he should give his attention. "You can't possibly have an escape plan already. It's been barely two weeks."

"Wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't." Harvey tapped Crane's shoulder with a couple fingers. "Should work well enough."

Jonathan frowned. "I take it you're only including me then if I choose to assist?"

. "About sums it up." A coin flip. "And I know at the very least you want out, despite the show you're putting on pretending to be content."

"Who's to say I won't lie to get out and then drop you?" Crane added eyes flicking around the room to see who was paying them mind. It seemed only a few giggling in the corner were even watching and Crane had a feeling it had more to do with Harvey's proximity than the subject matter. Crane tried to scoot even farther away but was stopped by an arm wrapping around his shoulder.

"You won't." Harvey smirked and pat the shoulder he was holding. "You've got no where else to go, yourself. And I'm bigger than you."

"You sound like the Joker."

"Worked well enough for him, can't see why it won't work well enough for me." Harvey smirked and Jonathan just rolled his eyes in aggravated defeat.

"I guess I'll go along with whatever you've come up with since you're not giving me much of a choice." He paused. "For now anyway." Crane huffed heavily and shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Let go. You're gathering unwanted attention."

Harvey pulled his arm up and moved back to his original position on the couch, putting his legs up on the coffee table to join Crane's own crossed feet. "Sorry, Princess."

"Stop calling me that." Jonathan practically hissed.

"Whatever you say, Partner."

Crane rolled his eyes. "Forget it." He rubbed his eyes. "Just stick with Princess."

* * *

Dark, calm nights were Gordon's favorite times to be up on the G.P.D rooftop. With nothing but a cool breeze on his back and the sound of the city beneath him, Batman's looming presence in the roof corner - nothing could ruin the mood. "It's been pretty quiet out there since we returned Dent and the rest of those mad men back to Arkham."

"Yes." Batman agreed from his perch watching the city. Usually after returning major players of crime, the lower levels stayed quiet. Somehow taking out their betters reminded them all that no one was above getting caught by the law. And this last time Bruce had brought in three at one time and a wannabe tag-a-long. "Let's hope it stays that way."

Commissioner Gordon sighed thoughtfully as he sipped at his coffee. "Amen to that."

The two sat in a companionable silence for a while before Batman stood, ready to leave. Once a week he'd come check up with Gordon and see if there was anything going on that had slipped under the radar. Thankfully, all truly was quiet in Gotham; well aside from the usual riff-raff roaming the street hunting tourists. All Batman had to do was do one last round and he was headed for home and a warm bed. "I'll see you next week, Commissioner."

"Good-" Gordon started to say but turned around to find the roof completely vacant of life. "Did it again." The commissioner shook his head and drank the last of his coffee. One of these days he'd put a bell on the Batman and catch him before he could disappear like a whiff of smoke.

Gordon opened the door to the roof stairs and headed back down to the main offices of the building. He had one or two papers to file and then he was going home to sleep in his own nice warm bed. Maybe he'd still get to pull out some dinner leftovers if he hustled. However, when he reached the main office there was far too much activity for a quiet, crime-less night.

"Commissioner!"

"Yes?" Gordon turned to the lieutenant.

"We finally found you." The officer handed over a file to his boss and started to describe events. "There's been another break out at Arkham."

"Already?" Gordon looked over the files and cursed under his breath. "How long have these two been missing?"

"The orderlies are guessing three to four hours."

"Can't these lunatics have the decency to give it a month before breaking out again?" Gordon sighed and headed swiftly towards his office. "Is it just these two or is this the only file you thought was worth my attention?"

"There was one other who escaped as well in the confusion. A Thomas Schiff, who was present when the Joker attached the mayor."

"Yes, I remember that." Gordon rubbed the spot where the bullet impacted. "Is he dangerous?"

"More so to himself than others."

"Fine, put out someone to look for him on the side and concentrate on the dangerous ones."

"Yes, sir!"

"Dismissed." Gordon waited for the younger man to leave before throwing the folder open on his desk. Jonathan Crane and Harvey Dent were out again. Gordon laced his fingers together and stared at the file. Something was bothering him about this. "Wonder why the left the Joker behind?"

* * *

"The Two-Step, Dent?"

"What? Is it my fault the condemned night club has a name that fits my new name?"

"Next thing you know your M.O. is going to involve things that deal with the number 'two.' You'll need two alarm clocks and two wrist watches and two-"

"Shut up, Princess."

"You first." Jonathan shoved a board off a chair so he could sit down. This building had seen better days. The wallpaper was peeling, the floors creaked, the windows were boarded up and the air was stale and full of dust. It worried him to think it probably looked this bad when it was in operation as it did now that it was condemned. "I thought your name was Two Face not two mouth."

Harvey snorted as he started to unwrap his face from the suffocating bandages. The Two-Step was a great nightclub when it was open. A little dirty, but it was cozy and comfortable and almost always had some old fashioned Vegas style show on stage. But he himself shut it down for illegal gambling in hidden rooms in the back. At the moment he was considering himself lucky that the demolition dates kept getting pushed back from more important projects. "You should be more grateful I got you out of Arkham instead of complaining."

"I'll complain all I want." Jonathan muttered. "Though, I still can't believe that plan worked."

"It's the oldest trick in the book."

"Again, I can't see how it worked. They should have seen right through it."

"You're just upset because you had to pretend to be worried for me so they'd let you come with me."

"You have no idea how it pained me." Scarecrow turned to the side and sat his head in his hand. He wondered if any of their multiple apartments over the past escapades was still available. It'd be nice to have some of his things again. And a change of clothes wouldn't hurt either. "They're idiots. All of them."

"I'll second that, too." Harvey smiled dumping the last of the bandages on the floor. All it took was some pained shrieking and holding his face to get all the orderlies on him. From there, a concerned Jonathan took his side and when they were near the open door – BAM! Hit and run. And run they did. Between Jonathan dodging and Harvey putting his big size to use to knock guards out of the way, they were out the front door before they could catch them. It was a horribly slapped together plan that involved going out the guarded, gated front door.

No one at Arkham saw it coming.

It also helped that it was still visiting hours so the main gate was open. Harvey was also counting his lucky stars that the guy responsible for locking said gate during an emergency had been asleep. It was just more proof to put all his faith in his lucky coin. He had flipped it right before everything went down to decide if it was worth attempting or not. The coin said it was a go and he and Crane were sitting happily in freedom. He took a deep breath and frowned. "I need a shower."

"I doubt there's running water here." Crane yawned into his hand before looking up at his hair. He fingered the greasy strands with a frown. "Besides, I could use one myself."

"We also need a change of clothes."

"That we could probably find here." Jonathan stood up and walked around. "This was a nightclub with a stage show right? Perhaps there's some unclaimed costumes in the back room." Jonathan tugged at the tablecloths. "They left enough of everything else in here."

"I'm amazed all of this is still here." Harvey looked around as he followed Crane towards the stage. "With all the crime in Gotham you'd think this place would be stripped."

"Perhaps even beggars have taste." Jonathans scrunched his nose at the wallpaper. It had multi-colored diamonds on it. "This place is positively gaudy."

"And yet you want to wear clothes you find in here."

"Beats an orange jump suit." Jonathan pushed open the back stage door and smirked at the rows of costumes still on racks. They were covered in dust, but still usable. He lifted the sleeve of a tuxedo. It was bright blue even under a thick layer of dust. And there were sequins. "I may stand corrected."

Harvey laughed and started to flip through a rack himself. Purple, yellow, green and fuchsia suits galore hung along the racks. Harvey picked up the fuchsia jacket and pants with a white tux shirt. "You could use the color."

"And that pink is going to clash with your face."

"Ouch, Princess. That hurts." Harvey chuckled as he ducked behind a changing screen. He shed the Arkham jumpsuit and started to put on the new, dusty clothes.

"I'm sure you've suffered worse." Jonathan muttered as he continued to sift through the men's clothing. All of these colors were ugly. What type of shows did this club perform? Eventually he settled for a sky blue silk shirt and a pair of black pants and settled to wait for his turn behind the screen. "Hurry up."

"I'm moving as fast as I can."

"Move faster."

Harvey shrugged on the jacket and came out from behind the screen. "There. How do I look?"

"Like a flower."

"Thank-you."

"It wasn't a compliment." Jonathan brushed past his new "partner" and started to dress himself. The sooner he could get out of that tacky uniform the better. He sneezed when some dust came off the new clothes.

"Bless you."

"Screw you."

Harvey could tell this was going to be a wonderful partnership already.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There! A chapter! *passes out*
> 
> Thanks for reading and reviewing like always!

They left him.

They _left_ him.

They, a smack of lips, **left** him.

The rational part of the Joker's mind was reminding him that his cute little pets had been trying to run from him the moment he brought them home. That same rational part explained kindly that his little Queen and new little pup were friends and probably had just forgotten their own in the excitement of playing together and didn't mean to _leave_ him behind. It then continued on to remind him that his new Harley-girl hadn't _left_ him and that he was hardly alone with all the lovely nurses to keep him, company.

Though, if Joker had a habit of listening to his rational side he wouldn't have killed so many people or tried to blow up a couple boats.

So where, did that really _leave_ him? Joker had to wonder to himself. He knew he had to get out of course and hunt them down like the little _left_ overs they were from his run away lunch but that was in due time. Joker wondered if it was so hard to think because he'd been still for so long. He'd been _left_ in a straight jacket for an obscenely long time. He was comparing his pets to lunch foods for goodness sake. Nothing good could possible come from that.

Joker didn't function like this. Still, alone. **Left** to do nothing but plotting.

Or maybe it was the anger clouding his, judgment. Perhaps that was it. Those ungrateful little brats with Queen's scraggly little limbs and that two-timer's c _left_ chin were in for a world of hurt. Maybe he'd break both of his Highness' legs this time. He'd surely complain about it twice (Joker giggled thinking of Harvey) as long, but hey, he couldn't go anywhere. The perfect little housepet always waiting by the door for dear daddy Joker to come home. It was cute little Harvey that he'd have trouble punishing.

Maybe he'd make him _leave_ his precious coin in a sewer drain. Or break a finger (or two) so he couldn't flip the damn thing. There were hundreds of possibilities. _Oh._ Joker sat up best he could. He could trim the man's ears. He'd seen them do it on Dobermans and it looked good with them, so maybe guard dog Harvey could use a trim to make his ears stand up straight.

Or not. That could get messy and one of the ears was already burnt off anyway.

The sound of footsteps could be heard echoing in the hallway but quickly _left_ as soon as they appeared. Joker shifted until he was fully upright against the wall of his padded pen. Harvey needed a collar. That's what he needed, definitely needed a collar. A nice shock collar with a good jolt for every time he tried to rut with the Queen. The thought of Harvey jerking every time he stepped next to his Highness was funny enough the Joker giggled.

Not that he wouldn't have giggled anyway.

But that wasn't the point in the long run. The point was to throw them all something out of **left** field and get all the way home from this ninth inning stretch. Baseball. Huh, Joker wondered where that came from as he started to work on his restraints. Were baseball metaphors better than food metaphors? Joker wasn't quite sure anymore, but food tasted better. He'd stick with food.

Yup, Joker hummed to himself. It was time. Time to take a long walk down the hall to the _left_ and visit his favorite blonde cup of vanilla pudding.

Joker frowned to himself at that last thought. He'd _left_ in this room way, way too long. It was turning his brain to mush and he couldn't wait to uh, _leave_ it behind.

* * *

"We need henchmen."

"We need what?" Jonathan looked over the top of his glasses to stare at the man pacing back and forth on the stage (no longer dusty thanks to an obsessive compulsive disorder breakdown on Scarecrow's part). "I don't believe I heard you correctly, Harvey." Jonathan also wondered when the hell he and Dent started working on a first name basis.

"Henchmen."

"As in, flunky idiots who follow us around and cause trouble?" The (obviously by this point) smarter of the duo set down his newspaper on the table and laced his fingers together.

"As in extra hands and help to do things. Get groceries, do smaller heists so we have money and more time to plan and make your little toxin. Gofers." Harvey shrugged before tapping the tip of his toe on the stage. He still couldn't believe that Scarecrow had cleaned this entire thing. It was dust free and shining. Harvey was almost scared to scuff it. "As much as I enjoy just the two of us, fact is we're not going to get the GPD without more help."

"You flipped that damn coin about this didn't you?"

Harvey rubbed the coin in his palm. "It's possible."

"No, absolutely not." Jonathan stood up and stalked over to the empty stage. His index finger was out and pointing menacingly at his idiot partner. "I did not agree to this plan and I'm definitely not agreeing to making things more complicated by adding _henchmen_ ," the word dripped off his lips like poison, "to the list."

"I'm going to hire some." Harvey ignored Princess. He was just in a prissy mood because they hadn't acquired new clothes yet. Though, Harvey was getting rather fond of the magenta suit. Maybe he could die half of it another color. Or stripes. Stripes would be good. "Maybe two or four. Four would be good. Two for you, and two for me."

"Stop abusing that poor number." Jonathan pulled himself up on stage and smacked the idiot's good side. "How are we going to pay them!?"

Harvey smiled and flicked Jonathan in the forehead. "We don't."

"I don't follow your logic." Scarecrow narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. Frowned when he caught sight of the yellow silk now draped over his arms. The blue shirt had been better. "Do explain."

"We're famous." Harvey lifted his good brow, tone hinting that this should be obvious. "More than famous. We're practically celebrities."

"And? That doesn't discount the fact we don't have a penny to our names."

"You said it right there! We've got our names!" Harvey smiled, winced when it pulled at the raw skin. "Who wouldn't want to work for the fearsome Scarecrow? The man who turned the Narrows to chaos and scared all of Gotham in a go?"

"That covers one of us, what about you?" Jonathan inspected a nail trying not to smile. He was such a sucker for empty praise. "No one has heard of 'Two-Face' yet."

"But everyone's heard of 'Harvey Dent' now haven't they? Man back from the dead sporting a new look and a vengeance." Harvey swept his hands out in a fashion similar to when he spoke to crowds a press conferences. Sell yourself. That's how the game was played. "What two-bit guy down on his luck wouldn't want to be a part of that? Something big and grand that shakes up the entire city?"

"Sweet talk them into servitude with promises of grandeur?" Scarecrow smirked before licking his lips. It did have a certain ring to it, when you listened to Harvey put I that way. "I see you still think like a politician."

"Princess, I never stopped being one." Harvey laughed before crossing his own arms to mimic his partner. "So, two each?"

"I suppose if I already have to put up with one idiot, I can handle four more." Jonathan sighed to himself. It would be rather nice to have someone else around who could do menial chores and be bossed around. "I get to pick my two."

"Fair enough." Two-Face saluted with two fingers before jumping off the stage. He started to stalk towards the front door when he paused and turned back to his somewhat anti-social companion. "How long do you think it'll take you?"

Jonathan thought of his brief stay in the drug trading profession and tried to remember where he had gotten those buffoons. It hadn't been too difficult if he recalled. His answer was hesitant and answered without really thinking. "Two days?"

"My kinda' number."

"Oh shut up."

* * *

"Finally give up on the gambling thief, Alfred?" Bruce chuckled as he walked by the waste basket full of betting stubs.

"He seems to have gone completely under." The butler muttered as he tuned the radio to his favorite sports station. "I'll just have to keep my ears out for suspicious activity in the even he brings his game back in play."

"You seem to be in a good mood, Master Wayne." Alfred spoke up as he returned to chopping celery for their dinner. Bowls of chopped fruit and veggies already sat neatly ready to be eaten, another soon to be added to the mix. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did." Bruce pulled out a chair from his table and plopped down into it. He was having a good morning. Bruce honestly couldn't think of the last time he had been so happy in the morning. "All things considered, I slept pretty well."

"I see you're not stressing over Crane and Dent escaping Arkham yet again." Alfred dropped the chopped celery into a bowl and pulled out a beet to start chopping. "I don't know if that's a good sign or a bad one, sir."

"I had a thought, Alfred." Bruce leant back in his seat and started to play with a loose fork set out on the table for tasting. "I really good thought."

Alfred lifted an eyebrow elegantly and looked over his shoulder at the young master. "And that would be?"

"No matter how many times I put them back in Arkham, they're going to bust out again." Bruce twirled the fork in his hand and whistled. "I shouldn't stress out over the inevitable."

"I'm sure this has nothing to do with how you dropped them off the last time." Alfred chuckled. Master Wayne had come back muttering about bleach and tearing out his eyes after that little mess. "Perhaps next time you'll catch them actually doing their 'laundry' as they put it."

Bruce growled and dropped the fork on the table. "Don't put those thoughts in my head, Alfred."

"Why not? Even you can't be so dumb as to assume they were actually doing laundry in that apartment."

"Really, Alfred. I can't un-think these things."

"And neither could I when you described in great detail how you found them all naked groping around on the floor in that dingy apartment." Alfred smiled sweetly.

"Touché, Alfred."

"I always win, Master Wayne." Alfred pushed the now freshly cut beets aside and looked for the carrots. He did so love making salads. "But you do have to consider going after them at some point."

"I know." Bruce rubbed his face. "But after last time I think I'll have better luck if I just keep my ears open on patrol. Less stressful and eventually more productive."

"As long as you have some sort of plan, Master Wayne." Alfred nodded in agreement before turning up the radio. They had started to give scores and he still had one ticket left in his breast pocket. He frowned however when the announcer started to quote the 'we hate to interrupt our broadcast but' line.

"The Gotham Police department has issued a warning for citizens to be on the look out for the Joker and his accomplice, Harleen Quinzel who is now going by the name 'Harley Quinn.' They are to be considered armed and dangerous." The radio spat out. "If you have any information concerning these two individuals please contact-"

Alfred shut the radio off and put his chopping knife gently on the table. He did wonder if it was possible for them to have even so much as a few hours without this sort of stress weighing their little family down. "And them, Master Wayne? Same game plan?"

Bruce merely dropped his head into his arms on the table and groaned. So much for his wonderful morning.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As much fun as TDK is – it's more fun to draw from the comics & other media. The henches be from B:TAS & Robin: Year One.
> 
> Scarecrow: Anthony (red-head) & Nigel (brown hair) Proof they exist (dont' forget to remove spaces): dcanimated . wikia wiki/Anthony & dcanimated . wikia wiki/Nigel
> 
> Two-face: Louis & Louis – Based on the pin-stripe suited twins in Robin: Year One.
> 
> Oh, and it's been brought up more than once if this is going to be a pairing fic – its doubtful. Unless there's a unanimous approval for the idea, it shall remain Gen-fic. In the meantime, thanks for your patience (as I avoid mentioning it's been a year since this thing updated) aaaannndddd….Enjoy!

"Twins." Jonathan adjusted his glasses in near disbelief at the sight before him. Flanking either side of Harvey Two-Face Dent were identical looking, slightly bookish, men with slicked back hair, both donning identical pin-stripe suits. They even each had the same pair of rounded glasses on their noses. Scarecrow blinked again hoping that maybe his vision was merely playing tricks on him. The image remained only now they were sharing mirrored smirks. "You found _twin_ henchmen."

"Louis and Louis." Harvey smirked and flicked his coin in the air to catch it. Scarecrow could gape all he wanted, but none of the other people he looked into seemed to work for him. Having two henchmen under his command just didn't seem good enough. He needed the next level. If one fit all of his qualifications than it only stood to reason only someone identical to the first could be of equal value. It had to be twins of the identical variety. Shared DNA, skills and looks. The coin agreed. "They're quite capable despite the gimmick you seem to be making up."

"I'm sure." Jonathan sneered, crossing his arms over his chest (still covered in tacky, brightly colored stage clothing). He wondered if those two knew what they were getting into. Or what sort of mental state Harvey had to be sinking into to become so dependent on the number two. The man was back in that ridiculous black and white split suit the Joker gave him as well. Scarecrow started to weight the odds of getting out of his affair in one-piece. "And next you'll tell me they even split their sentences."

"That would be," One Louis started.

"Absolutely correct." The second finished.

"Brilliant." Scarecrow spoke through his teeth. He collapsed into the nearest chair and removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. He sat his arms on the table before him and glared at the decorative candle holder covered in dust and tarnish from years of disuse. "I shouldn't be surprised. I really shouldn't."

"Complain all you want, Princess." Harvey smirked and walked his way over to sit at the table opposite his partner. The two Louis' stood obediently behind him, backs straight and at attention. He had made it very clear when they were hired what Harvey "Two-Face" Dent expected of them. "But I don't see your two guys any place." Two-Face flipped his coin. "Couldn't find any?"

"They're on a brief errand." Jonathan admitted before discreetly shifting his vision to the side. It had taken him far longer than Scarecrow was willing to admit, but he had indeed found two henchmen suitable for his needs. They were pliable and scared to death of the Scarecrow. "I wanted something decent for lunch and a new set of clothing."

"Oh?" Harvey hummed. Apparently Scarecrow went more for the 'they do it so I don't have to' type of henchmen instead of the 'skilled' henchmen. Harvey shrugged. If Princess wanted someone to order around that was a-okay with him. Harvey shrugged and looked over the flashy clothing currently hugging Crane's frame. Personally, he didn't think it looked all that bad. "I guess you did mention not being able to stand wearing so many bright colors."

"At least I still have some sense of fashion." Scarecrow threw out a hand and waved it up and down to showcase Dent's mismatched ensemble. "I still can't believe you're wearing that."

"What? It's grown on me." Harvey smirked and after a moment snapped his finger in sort of a 'oh-yeah!' sort of moment. "That reminds me."

The slighter man frowned as one of the Louis' handed him a small bag from behind his back. The name of a prominent department store was listed across the plastic. "I take it you, and by you I meant sent your henchmen, went shopping?"

Two-Face pulled a tie from the bag, black and white split straight down the middle. The colors were opposite of his suit. The plain black tie just wasn't cutting it anymore. And only his Louis' could have the skill to find what he wanted so quickly without being caught. "What are the odds?"

"Striking it out alone is becoming more appealing by the second, you know You are clearly suffering from some sort of delusion or coping mechanism that I am far too tired to even try to diagnose." Scarecrow groaned and left his head on the desk. "At least my gas mask served a function."

"What? Looking good is a function."

"Half of your face is burnt off." Jonathan glared at Dent, the twins and his entire situation. He was being gang up upon. That's what this was. Where the hell were his own henchmen when he needed them to even the odds! "I don't think looking good is going to be a concern for you."

"All the more reason my suit should look good."

"I'm starting to hate you."

"Shut up, Princess."

* * *

"Batsy, I uh, don't normally want to say things like this because it, hurts me, too." The Joker started with his hand in the air in a placating fashion towards Batman. The poor guy was standing there looking hurt for being brushed aside. Joker hated doing it to him. He really did. But he couldn't be with him right now. He had plans to put into action and machines to turn on and pets to hunt down and re-leash. "But I'll have to play with you later. Daddy Joker's a little busy right now."

Batman frowned. The Joker had been particularly difficult to locate this time around but he couldn't afford to allow the man to team back up with the other two. Crane's laughing gas and toxins were far more dangerous than the Joker's schemes alone. So therefore, he had spent the past three nights hunting down the Joker sacrificing sleep and sanity. And now he had the _nerve_ to say he wasn't in the mood? Bruce growled. "You're going back to Arkham."

"And do what?" Joker threw his hands out frustration with his favorite person in the world clearly written all over his face. Why did someone so wonderful have to be such an idiot? Couldn't he take a hint? Or maybe he was just a masochist or something. "Break out again? Seriously, Bats. Go take a nap or something and then we can play all you want."

Harley stepped from foot to foot in the background next to 'The Device' as Joker so aptly named it. She wasn't sure what it was supposed to do. In fact, Harley wasn't sure Mr. J knew what it did either. The guy was a little crazy with rage lately concerning being left behind in Arkham. Lots of mumbling to himself in the dark and throwing random deadly things at her and the wall. Harley didn't think he was processing things all that clearly in his noggin. She thought it looked like the machine was supposed to be some sort of tickle machine-thing. Or a torture chamber. Like she had thought- Harley wasn't sure what it did. All she knew was it was for Dent and Crane.

Harley huffed and crossed her arms again. Why was there so much competition for Mr. J's favor? If it would get his attention Harley would even be happy if the guy was mad at his cute little Harley Quinn. Drawn from her thoughts, Harley flinched when Batman made a running tackle at her Puddin' and Harley squeaked. "Now that's just uncalled for!"

"Shut up, Harley-girl!" Joker mumbled as his back hit the pavement. Idiot girl didn't understand just how good it felt to have a certain Batman lose his temper and tackle Joker. This was just the kind of pick-me-up he needed after his pets flew the coop but sadly his future good times rolling around with the Bat had to be put on hold. "My only regret is I don't have more time to play, Batsy." Joker twisted and squirmed until he was out of Batman's grip and flailing.

Bruce reached out to grab the clown's ankle and was tempted to just twist and break the thing. Maybe Joker would stay in prison if he was incapable of crawling away. The justice-oriented part of his brain said he was better than that and shouldn't reduce himself to excessive force. The mental fear and mind games were more than enough. Joker kicked Bruce in the jaw and did that annoying giggle of his. The Bruce-part of his brain turned over the rational portions of his brain that Batman occupied. Justice be damned for the moment. Bruce had two more villains to catch, a meeting with the commissioner at the GCPD he was late for and Alfred had soup waiting at home.

Batman was going to break Joker and go the hell home.

Joker had been prepared for a scuffle ending in him running away so he could live to fight another day and the like (and hunt down the traitorous pets who **left** him) but he hadn't quite been expecting Batman to be in a bad mood. When the Dark Knight (Joker giggled at the title in his own mind) snarled and twisted so he could Jam his foot into the back of Joker's knee effectively shattering something, before proceeding to send another two kicks to his tender gut, Joker had one thought of which he vocalized: "What the hell crawled up your cowl and died?"

"My patience."

Somewhere between the second punch to his face and Harley screaming in the background for the bully to put her puddin' down – Joker realized that Batman just told a joke.

Shame he was too unconscious to appreciate it.

* * *

"Those are it?" Harvey stared, good eyebrow raised in confusion at the two very large men flanking Crane. They both had rather dulled expressions in their eyes behind the frowning, 'tough-looking' faces. They looked like low-level of the rung thugs. The kind that didn't even get interviewed to finger the boss because they were so far down the chain and out of the loop. Everyday idiot thugs. Harvey sent these types to jail by the barrelful. Scarecrow was supposed to be the _smart_ one. "Those are your guys?"

Crane drew himself up straighter and smoothed out the lines of the sweater vest he now found himself in. It was a classic plaid and fit snuggly over the crisp white shirt. The two behind him were poor at thinking for themselves, but at least they could follow direction. That's all Crane could ask – henchmen weren't supposed to _think._ Scarecrow ignored Harvey's aghast face and jabs to hold a hand out to introduce the newest members of this little team-up. "This is Anthony and Nigel, professional thugs."

The two goons nodded happily like puppies and Harvey rolled his eye. _Professional thugs._ Way to say 'idiots for hire.' "Are they even capable of higher thought or did you just pick out the ones who resembled the bullies who used to pick on you as a child?"

Crane bristled and felt the anger seething. How dare he. How _dare_ he! Scarecrow felt spittle gather in his mouth as he replied viciously. "Excuse me? I'm not the one who picked two guys out simply because they were twins!"

"Who cares if they're twins!" Two-Face shouted back with equal fervor. "Mine may be twins but they also happen to be highly qualified, professional mafia members! I prosecuted them myself knowing they were guilty and they still got off thanks to their skills and quick thinking.!" Harvey pointed back to the twins who were currently playing cards at the table. "They're more than capable of the work and whatever else I throw at them."

Crane froze momentarily. "You tried to put them in jail? Why the hell are they working for you!"

"The money's…"

"…Good."

"Not to mention…"

"…the notoriety."

"That's really creepy professor." Nigel muttered shuffling a little as he tried to stand closer to Anthony and the Boss. He knew workin' for a costumed guy would be different but that Two-Face guy and his twins were just plain _out there._ "We really gotta' work with those guys?"

"Shut it Nig! Boss ain't told us we can talks yet!" Anthony scolded. Nigel wasn't too bright. The Professor clearly stated they weren't to talk unless the told them they could. "Even if they are creepy!"

Scarecrow felt the blush rising on his cheeks. He wouldn't deny that looking for someone with a few higher IQ points wouldn't have hurt him. But these two were just so convenient. And obedient. "Both of you shut up."

"Yes, sir." They both snapped looking down at their feet like children who were caught with their hand under the lid of a cookie jar.

Harvey had a feeling Princess only picked these two idiots because they seemed scared of him. Two-Face snorted. Those two were idiots but they were big and muscular. They could snap Crane like a twig and yet they were cowering. Almost made him wonder just what Princess did to achieve that. Then again, he didn't really care as long as they stayed out of his and Princess' way. "Either way, we both got a couple guys who can help out with our future business and revenge.."

"Yes, and now our numbers have gone from two to six." Crane smiled. "Now we're definitely ready to take on the hundreds of police officers occupying the GCPD."

"I'm working on it." Harvey huffed and flattened his suit out. Crane had so little faith in him. Harvey hadn't gotten to where he had in life by being unprepare- or maybe he had. _Damn that Joker._ Two-Face hid his self-doubt well however and smirked at Princess. "It'll be a piece of cake."

Crane licked his lips and just couldn't help himself. "Don't you mean _two_ pieces of cake?"

Anthony proved his worth when he got in the way of the candle Harvey had thrown at Scarecrow from off the dinner table. The man didn't even flinch when it smacked into his chest. The bumbling giant looked down at the smaller man behind him and tilted his head. "You okay, Boss?"

Crane smiled and crossed his arms over his not-bruised chest. "Yes, Thank-you, Anthony." He could learn to like henchmen.


End file.
